AN: Hi everyone! This chapter is a bit shorter than most, but the next chapter is already done and ready for edits.

I cannot believe we have to wait so long for a new episode of Grey's! It's kind of ridiculous. Enjoy!

Standard disclaimers apply and, despite due diligence, the inevitable mistakes are my fault.

Remembrance

An area inside which events cannot affect an outside observer. Consequently, once an object crosses this boundary, it cannot return to the other side.

Chapter Fourteen: Event Horizon

When Lexie first heard Sloan had a big surgery, she immediately counted herself out. She still, however, she stood in line with the rest of the second year residents, their interns milling around behind them. When he asked the first question regarding ear reconstruction, she was slow to raise her hand, only half paying attention to the question. But when Steve was wrong, he turned to her, saying, "Grey," in a matter-of-fact voice that was entirely too casual to be arbitrary.

She was so surprised, she stuttered. But her answer spilled out eventually. He gave her a terse nod. "You and one of your interns can scrub in." Handing her a chart, he turned, leaving a cluster of labcoat-clad students in his wake. She gripped the chart to her chest, looking around.

Steve was double checking the pad of notes he kept tucked in his pocket. Her interns were preening now that they'd weeded out a huge chunk of the competition. No one was even giving her a second look.

She smiled. This was what progress felt like.

****

Two days later she ran to the on call room, pager in hand and grinning. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this page," she said as she entered, already reaching for the hem of her scrub top.

He stood up when she entered, his face solemn. When his hands stilled hers, she looked up. Brow furrowing at his somber expression, she said, "What's wrong?"

"I love you," he said, his hands bracing her shoulders. When her eyes rounded in surprise, he rushed to placate her. "You don't have to say anything; I could wait to hear it, but not to say it." He exhaled, his shoulders flexing as if releasing some unseen onus. "I—" he started again, equipped with more disclaimers and prevarications.

"I love you, too," she interrupted, clamping a hand over his mouth.

She saw his cheeks lift into a smile and smiled back, slipping her hand away after he pressed a kiss against her palm.

"And I didn't have an answer for you then, but I do now. I'll marry you. A thousand times. Today. Whenever you want." Her face paled with embarrassed realization, and she began backtracking. "Unless you don't want to…I can wait, too. It's okay. You haven't even asked, not really, not this time, but..."

It was his turn to press his palm against her busy mouth. "If I'd married you yesterday it wouldn't be soon enough."

She licked his hand and he pulled it away, wiping it on his scrub pants with an expression of mock disgust. When he pulled her close to him, her arms linked around his neck. Head bent, he leaned down to kiss her, his palms slipping under the fabric of her top.

She angled her hips closer to his and his hands spanned her waist as he pulled her away from him. Letting out a sound of protest, her eyes asked an unspoken question.

Regret filled his voice. "I have to get back to work," he said, checking his watch.

"I'm off in a few hours," she said, her lower half moving against his with a hint of suggestion before letting him go. "I can make us dinner?"

He gave a brusque nod. "And we need to get you a new ring."

She laughed. "I have a ring."

He shook his adamantly. "That was from before. This is new; new us, new ring."

"But I like that ring."

"You'll like this one better."

It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. "What are we going to do with the other ring?"

He let out a negligent shrug. "Who cares?" He stole another kiss, one boasting of familiarity and she reveled in the comfort of such a gesture. "I'll see you tonight."

When he left, she practiced not smiling. But even when she physically used her fingers to pull down the corners of her mouth, it was futile. Giving up, she left the room, ignoring the knowing looks from the nurses nearby.

Let them look. She was going to be a bride.

****

The grocery store, she acknowledged with an impatient sigh, was an absolute zoo at five in the evening. She ticked off another item on her mental list as she dropped a bag of cilantro next to the two wine bottles she'd already chosen. All she needed was salmon and some lemons. When she added the freshly selected fish to the cart, she knocked over the small carton of gourmet ice cream standing in the built-in child's seat of her cart. She bent to find it after it rolled on the floor near the produce section. As her fingers reached, so did her mind and it went into overdrive, giving her images and pictures in vivid Technicolor.

By the time she stood, her face was white, her brain too full of things that weren't welcome. Mind screaming in protest, she inhaled. Then exhaled. Once more. Then she systematically walked around the store, replacing each item with utmost care. When she returned the last can of peas to its original home, she walked her cart to its designated drop off point, her motions on autopilot.

She followed the speed limit on the way home, signaled at every turn, stopped for every light and stop sign. She even let two cars turn from their driveways into her lane with patience akin to that of an angel.

But by the time she walked into his empty apartment, there was no more procrastinating. After slipping out of her jacket and boots, her eyes fell on the picture-laden mantle for the umpteenth time. Only this time, there was no frustration, no racking her mind for the missing key.

She knew the answer now, she thought grimly before walking into the master bedroom.

Her actions were deliberate, knowing. She immediately went to the top drawer of the nightstand, her fingers finding the second book in the low stack. She flipped through the crisp pages, the flapping sound halting when thick photo paper stilled its rhythm.

Although prepared, she couldn't help the small cry that escaped when she pulled out the photograph. It wasn't particularly artistic or skillfully taken; it was grainy and black and white. But, for an all-too-short while, it had been her world.

She traced the white curves on the picture with tentative fingertips. Her name was in block letters on the lower corner.

She saw him darken the doorway out of the corner of her eye. When she looked up to meet his grim face, her vision was blurry with tears. Anger cleared her eyes within seconds.

"We were going to have a baby," she said. The words were expressionless; it wasn't a question.

His face bleak, he echoed a confirmation, "We were going to have a baby."

AN: Please review!