This chapter's kind of sad—but this is pretty much how I feel about the mild character assassination of George and Izzie. I'm going to try to bring them back, and this chapter is, in part, setting up for that.

Anyway. Enjoy and PLEASE comment. You guys have been really good about that, and I appreciate it.

- Leems

Chapter Six

"You two, Pit," Izzie ordered, selecting two of her interns. "You, go do morning rounds on the Post-Op floor, ask them to give you charts. Do not exercise your own judgment. It's not used to the strain. And the rest of you… yes, you two, come with me. We're in the ER today. Do not speak to Dr Torres unless she speaks to you. Everyone clear?" They seemed a little stunned, but the interns respectively scattered or arranged themselves behind Izzie.

"Let's go." She led them down the hallway, until a slightly harangued-looking Callie crossed their path.

"Dr. Stevens? I need to talk to you about a patient." Izzie stopped in her tracks. "Sorry? Me? Patient. Sure." Reluctantly, she gave her interns instructions to continue and stopped, facing Callie and leaning against the railing of the glass overpass.

"You probably realized that I didn't want to talk to you about patients," Callie began, shifting the charts she held beneath her left arm. "I was wrong, insulting you like that. It took three of us, to get here. It took you falling in love with George and getting in bed with him, but it also took him loving you. And it took me driving him out. So it was my fault, too. Mine and George's. So… you're not the only bitch around here." Callie didn't smile, but much of the anger that had settled behind her face seemed to disintegrate.

"I'm not an idiot," Callie continued. "I've figured out that he's not in love with me anymore. You've taken my place. So enjoy it, okay? I'm going to be hurt and betrayed and pissed, but George is not evil. He was an ass to me, but that does not make him an ass. And he… pretty clearly loves you."

"Callie, I…"

"And never, ever give me any details of your sex life, okay? Because I'm not above vomiting on your shoes." Finally, Callie broke into a small grin, and Izzie returned it.

"I'm still mad," Callie warned. "But you are not the only one at fault, and you seem like you need someone to cut you a break. So let me be the one to do it."

"Thank you," Izzie said, trying to read Callie's face for some explanation. Instead, Callie waved and walked off. Izzie paged George with instructions to meet her in the on-call room and then went there herself.

He must have been somewhere close, because by the time Izzie arrived he was sitting on the bed with his hands in his lap, patiently waiting for her to explain.

"Your wife cornered me," Izzie began, "and told me, basically, that I wasn't the only reason you've been lead to immorality."

"Oh." George seemed to be waiting for the punch line. "And…"

"She also told me she'd barf on me if I ever mentioned our having sex."

"Then don't." Izzie lay down beside him on the bunk.

"I won't," she whispered. "But first, I have to have something not to tell her about." She pulled him down towards her by the shoulder and started pulling on the drawstring of his scrub pants.

"Not here," George said, reclaiming his posture and pants fastener. "It shouldn't be here. We shouldn't have to go back to work afterwards. Tonight, okay?" Izzie cleared her throat and sat up.

"Promise?"

"Yes, Izzie, I promise." George got up to leave.

"You know what I just thought of?" Izzie asked as he was almost to the door.

"Mm?"

"I wasn't nearly as drunk as you were, that first time. I remembered it all. But for you… well, it'll be almost like your first time with me, won't it?" She gave him a slow half-smile.

"The going back to work distracted thing? You're not helping." George waved good-bye and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Izzie sighed and picked at the beginnings of a hole around her sleeve. George was not a screw-in-the-on-call-room guy. She guessed that the ceremony and anticipation was part of what made the whole thing so appealing, but it was frustrating. Maybe part of her did want to stumble back into work with a lopsided hairdo and flushed cheeks. Maybe Callie's forgiveness made her more nervous than Callie's fury.

She was like a dog, she realized, peeing all over its tree. She had to mark George as her own by making it obvious she was doing him at work. If she didn't make that clear, someone might take him from her.

Izzie began to realize why Callie had acted the way she had after George confessed. First, she had done the only thing she could think of to get him to stay: tell him it was all right, so he wouldn't storm out and leave her. And then she tried anything to direct her anger elsewhere, away from the guilty party: at patients, at Izzie, at herself. Especially herself. She thought she was such a good wife, so supportive, so understanding. Not half bad-looking, either.

But George had the ability to destroy her. With one evening, George had ensured that Callie would always second-guess herself: whenever she flirted with a guy, when she went to a bar, if she ever fell in love and married again, she would be eternally suspicious of her partner and force him to live with her intensified insecurity. Maybe her fear would even drive nice guys, guys she deserved, away from her.

We were wrong. What we did was wrong. Now I'm a dirty mistress and George is a cheater and that's for life.

Then, fear building in the back of her throat, another thought crossed her mind before she could stop it.

Am I going to be the one you hurt next, George? What woman am I going to be forced to eye, wondering what she has that makes you love her so much more than me?

What do I have that Callie doesn't?

The soft spot in the shirt fabric became a full-fledged rip.

You were so sweet when I first met you. What happened to you? You were my adorable, generous, empathetic best friend with that sad little crush on your roommate. Now you're triangulating between me and Callie and a failing career. Nothing's working. It's destroyed you.

Where did that first George go? I got you to leave Callie, but the 'you' I wanted got left behind a long time ago. I can't have you, Callie can't have you: you're gone.

Can we get George back? Because that's the guy I'm in love with. This George… well, I don't even recognize him.