I skipped the third episode because it's mainly filler where we are concerned. So this chapter follows "There's No I in Team." Hope you enjoy and thanks for all the reviews!

Chapter 3

"I care about you. I care about you. I care about you."

Alex's lips came down on Izzie's hard. He couldn't reciprocate the words, but he could the feelings, and he poured all of his pain and love into her. He pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist, his hips rubbing seductively against hers. Their tongues met and they both moaned leisurely. It had been so long since either of them had something they wanted. And they wanted each other, more than either ever realized.

She followed as he pulled her to the bed, lying on his back and she fell on top of him. Her blonde hair fell around his face and he could smell the flowery scent of her shampoo. He sipped and licked and kissed her face, taking in every inch that he could find.

Breathing hard, she kissed his neck, nipping at his shoulder with her teeth. She sat up to take off her shirt and then he grabbed her waist with his hands and flipped them over so that his legs straddled her hips. He took off his black undershirt and she rubbed her hands over his solid chest.

"Izzie," he breathed. He ran his hand lovingly from the middle of her breasts to her navel. "Tell me again."

Her blue eyes looked deep into his. "I care about you, Alex."

He groaned and came down to meet her lips. Shuffling his legs so that he could kick off his pants, he pulled down hers as well and rested between her legs. Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he put it on and entered her tenderly and slowly. Her chin rose, her head digging into the pillow as she cried softly.

They made love that night, feeling for the first time that they were together exactly how and when they wanted to be. They were finally together, close, and they cared for each other.

…………………………………..

Cristina wanted a real man and now she saw him—the man literally of her dreams. He was already back from war. She didn't know why he was there, but she could feel a relief, knowing he was there.

She felt the urge as she stood silently in the bar to go to him, to have a drink, to take him home like Meredith would have done, like she had done with Derrick. But she couldn't. She wasn't as sure of herself as she had been before she met Burke. Burke had been a man, but somehow, she didn't feel like as much of a woman.

She hoped that he would turn his head, that he would see her. He would smile at her, remembering how he kissed her and he would wave her over, asking her to sit down. He would tell her why he was there and that he had missed her while he was gone. He would say that he was staying and that he wanted to see more of her, wanted to kiss her longer.

But he didn't. He never saw her. She walked out of the bar and back to Burke's old apartment—her apartment—alone, wondering if she'd ever see him again. She hoped that she would.

In her dreams that night, she did.

………………………………..

Owen took another gulp of his drink. He smiled. It was nice to let the sounds of the bar drowned out the memories replaying over and over in his mind. He liked the distraction.

For some reason, he liked that he was back in Seattle. He just couldn't remember why. Whatever happened, it had been before. Before the attack, before the trauma.

As he stared into his scotch, a face started to form. It was a woman. He could see her curly black hair. He could feel the urge to cup the back of her head so that her hair fell around his hand. She had smooth, olive skin. But it was her eyes that haunted him the most. They were nearly black but were so bright that they made his breath stick in his chest. They moved him and he wasn't even sure why.

But that was before. Before. He hoped that he would see her again. He wanted to remember. He wanted to know why this woman had such a pull on him. He wanted to know her.

He was there now. He was starting work that Monday. He knew somehow he would see her again. Something inside made him want this woman to help him with the after.

……………………………………..

"Screw you, Dr. O'Malley," Lexie said. As she walked away, she breathed heavily. It wasn't the confession she had planned to give him, but a weight felt as though it fell from her shoulders. But a new weight had just been put on.

How could she have been that stupid? George had never noticed her. For all of his words about them being such close friends—best friends—he didn't even give her a first thought. George O'Malley was always her first thought. He had been for months. And even though they lived together, he barely knew she existed.

What was worse was how big of a fool she had exposed herself to be in front of everyone. Everyone knew how head over heels she was. She had decorated his damn locker even! Mark Sloan definitely knew. She grimaced at the thought of how much crap he was going to give her over this.

She knew she had chores to do but she couldn't control herself. She felt rage and hurt and embarrassment so much so that she found the first supply room that wasn't occupied by frisky interns and nurses and locked herself in. Sitting in a wheelchair, she put her head in her hands and cried.

……………………………..

Mark stood by the nurses' station to get his daily supply of gossip. He would never admit it, but he did love to know all of the juicy details of the hospital. I'm such a chick, he admonished, but made no attempt to leave. Watching as three nurses walked towards him, he could hear "Grey," "O'Malley," and "screw" while the wide-eyed nurses gasped and laughed.

His face dropped. So, O'Malley had finally wised up and let Grey in—well, the other way around really. He nearly snarled at the thought. The man had good taste: Grey, Torres, Stevens and now apparently the other Grey, but the idiot didn't know what to do with them after he had them. How did that screw up land so many hot women in this hospital? And what was wrong with Mark that he couldn't do the same?

It made him sick, but he refused to think of why. Grumbling, he said, "So when did this happen? In the on-call room? You'd think Grey would be better than that."

The nurses overheard him. One cocked her head to the side, saying, "Sir, what did you say?"

His head whipped up and he realized that they had heard him. He shrugged and tried to look deadpan as he said, "I just thought Lexie Grey had more sense than to sleep with intern repeat George O'Malley."

Olivia, who happened to be one of the nurses, bristled at his words. "I think you're mistaken, Dr. Sloan."

He scoffed. "I am?"

Another nurse nodded and said quickly, "Yes, Dr. O'Malley and Dr. Grey didn't sleep with each other—as far as we all know."

He stopped. "They didn't?"

She shook her head. "No, Dr. Grey got incredibly angry in the locker room and told him to screw himself. Apparently she was angry that he didn't try to choose her as his intern."

He nodded. He could understand the insult in that. "Thank you, ladies. You are as helpful as ever."

As Mark walked away, Olivia said, "I don't understand why everyone expects George to like Lexie Grey anyway. What's so special about her?"

Mark took two steps back to the station. "I'm sorry, nurse. What did you say?" he asked, looming over her.

Her face paled. "Nothing, sir."

He smiled mirthlessly. "Good." He walked away, relieved. It was about time she stood up for herself. As he had told her before, he wondered why she had no problem expressing herself to him but was such a meek mouse around O'Malley and pretty much everyone else. Why was she so different around him? Did she hate him so much that she didn't care? He doubted that. She was too friendly with him.

She was so much like her sister but yet so different. She was brilliant, but not as opinionated. Beautiful, but not as assertive. She was Little Grey to Meredith's Big Grey. He liked that about her.

He hoped that she was okay. He could see how much she liked George. She must be pretty upset. Asking around, he found someone who had seen her go into a supply closet. Finding the right one, he tapped on it lightly. There was no answer. He tried the door but it was locked. "Little Grey," he said into the door. "I know you're in there. Let me in."

"Go away, Dr. Sloan," she said on a wheeze.

"If I go away, how can I congratulate you on your epiphany today?" Open the door, open the door, open the door.

Oh, great. He knew. The one person she didn't want knowing about this meltdown knew. "Shut up," she shot back.

He smiled, laughing softly. He hadn't realized how much he had missed her telling him to shut up. "C'mon, Little Grey. You can't hide in there all night. Who's going to help me with my surgery?"

A few seconds later, the door unlocked and opened. She peeked her head out. "Surgery?"

His smile became wider. "Yeah, surgery. It's a good one, too." He took a tissue from the cart near the door, saying, "Here, clean yourself up and get ready to scrub in."

Letting out a breath, she wiped her face. "Thank you."

Waving his hand, he said in a deep voice, "Don't thank me."

Shaking her head, her ponytail went from side to side. "Why are you doing this?"

His blue eyes looked her squarely and firmly in the eyes. "Because you're not pathetic anymore."

Sniffing, she laughed. She stepped out of the closet and let the door shut behind her.

TBC