This chapter's a little longer, in response to the request for lengthier chapters. They look a LOT longer in Word… this chapter's nearly three pages, previous ones have been one and a half to two, but they spread out online to the point where they don't seem like much at all.

The Hannah thing isn't going to be as heavy as it looks like it might be—yeah, she's losing a kid, and I'm dealing with that, but it's also partially used as a stepping stone for the Gizzie friendship/romance thing.

I asked this in the "reviews" section, but in case you guys didn't see that… how do you make a story available for anonymous commentary? Thanks!

Please read and review. Again, many brownie points for those who can give constructive criticism, but general reviews are great too! Let me know what you think of this chapter. It's a little lighter that previous ones: this whole issue's a little melodramatic, and, well, Christina always helps with that.

- Leems

Chapter Five

"What are you doing in Izzie's room?" Meredith asked in a stage whisper, opening the door fifteen minutes before they had to leave for work. George snorted and woke with a start, trying to focus his eyes on Meredith.

"She's had a rough night."

"George, you do not sleep in Izzie's bedroom. You sleep in your bedroom…most of the time. So, go."

"You know... you know about us."

"Yup. And the way Seattle Grace works, in a week it'll be me and the rest of the zip code." Meredith put her hands on her hips. "Get ready for work and stop stalking Izzie."

"I am not stalking her. How would you like it if you were having a crappy time of it and I… I came into your room and kicked Christina out?"

"Christina being in my room does not entitle Callie to kick my ass! And Callie is not the woman you want intent on kicking your ass. So. For your own safety. Go. To. Your. Room."

"Izzie's thinks Callie's scary too. Is my wife that intimidating?" Meredith nodded, eyes widened, then jacked her thumb out into the hallway.

"No," George insisted. "I'm not going. I'm her… what do you guys call it?"

"Her person. But George, you do not get to sleep with your person. If you do, you lose the rights to camp out in their bedroom without raised eyebrows." Christina came up behind Meredith, dressed and ready.

"I came here to steal your coffee—I'm too cheap to buy it from the café and the bag Burke bought is empty. So… what's this about sleeping with people?" Meredith, though she blanched at the mention of Burke, didn't comment on it when she rotated to face Christina.

"I was just telling George that you don't get to sleep with your person."

"Ew. Meredith, I…" Christina smiled a little bit, devilishly. "I didn't know you felt that way about me. How do you tell Derek that? No wonder you guys have been having such problems."

"I meant George and Izzie."

"Seriously? George has a thing for Izzie?" Christina sing-songed the last sentence a few times under her breath, walking back down the hallway with a self-satisfied spring in her step before doubling back again.

"George, give it up. There's no way. Izzie's, like, a zillion feet tall and her boobs are an ad for the silicone industry. And you're, well, George. Plus, we all saw how great the whole Meredith thing worked out. There's a moral to this story. Don't crush on whiny blondes." Having delivered these lines, Christina left again.

"Thanks!" George and Meredith called after her, in unison, but she was already downstairs. Meredith gave George another reproachful look, and seemed as if she was about to say something, but Izzie shifted and opened her eyes.

"I'm feeling watched." Meredith and George stared.

"Now I'm seriously feeling watched. Meredith, could you go eat a cupcake or something and give me a minute?" With a glare at George, Meredith followed orders.

"Thanks," Izzie said to George, once it was just the two of them. "For last night."

"All part of the job description."

"You know what? I woke up this morning and the first word that came to mind was Hannah. And then I was like, don't think about that, you're going to start crying again, but then… well, you were right there and I was kind of… relieved, I guess. That I hadn't lost you too."

"I watched you sleep, last night," George confessed, starting in on vocalizing his own hours-long train of though. "I sat by the window and I… I just looked at you while you breathed. Izzie, I've got to hurt one of you, either you or Callie. Do you realize that it's been a whole day since I've talked to my own wife? Or that my wedding ring is sitting in the drawer in my bedroom? I finally told her about us, and all she says is that she forgives me. She's trying to stay married, and I'm doing everything to destroy that. Can I put of the hurting a little longer? Can I just live here and have you accept that I'm in meltdown, and… can we forget about the sex?"

"Do you really want to?" George didn't answer. Izzie crawled out of bed and perched next to him, tilting her head back to touch her lips to George's. She kept them there for a moment, motionless, again trying to burn the flesh memory of their mouths together into her mind. He closed his eyes, wanting to respond, but frozen with confusion, indecision, and some foreign ache in his chest. Hanging on to that sensation, Izzie sat up straight again to speak.

"That didn't seem like you wanted to forget about it," Izzie said, noting the confusion clear in George's eyes.

"I… you've got to get ready for work," he insisted, looking painfully flustered.

"You," Izzie said, standing up and speaking in an unnaturally cheery tone, "make an excellent point. I do have to get ready for work. So now, I'm going to take off my clothes and shower. Without you in the room."

George saluted and went down into the kitchen, where Meredith and Christina were sitting, each with a mug and the coffee pot between them.

"Why are you avoiding Callie when you're the one who cheated on her? Isn't it supposed to be her pretending you don't exist?" Christina asked, looking at George over the rim of her cup.

"What? You know?"

"Dude, the whole SexyBack at three in the morning was a dead giveaway. And besides, the two of you have had 'I slept with my best friend and am now dealing with the oh-so-tumultuous situation my life has become post-drunken sex' written all over your faces for weeks now."

"So why the 'George, give it up, she's not interested'?" Meredith asked.

"Screwing with him." Christina looked up from her mug to see George, who looked stricken and queasy, and set down her coffee to roll her eyes at him. "Oh, come on. You honestly think everyone doesn't know? Neither of you is exactly royalty in Subtlety Land." Izzie came downstairs, showered and dressed in record time.

"What's going on?" she asked, pulling a cup from the cabinet and pouring coffee into it.

"They all know," George told her. "About the thing. Our thing."

"I'm not surprised," Izzie responded, digging through the refrigerator for milk. "We're not exactly secret-keeper central around here. I mean, it would be really great if we could handle this like competent adults who've made a mistake, but when the hell does life really work like that?"

"Why," George asked, sliding into a chair and fixing his eyes on the ceiling, "am I the last one to know about everything?"