Two days later, he woke up early well before his alarm. He hadn't seen April since he'd spoken to Arizona, but he knew he would later today, because this week's schedule had her on pediatric service exclusively. As her boss, he was pleased with her commitment, but he was also a little unnerved at the idea of seeing so much of her.

So it was even more startling, as he was walking in the front doors of the hospital, to see her a bit earlier than he'd expected, standing at the end of the line at the espresso stand he'd been heading towards himself. Wanting to delay any interaction until they were in a more professional environment, he actually considered skipping coffee for now. But there was no guarantee that he'd find his way back to caffeine before lunch, which was simply unacceptable. He slowly walked over to stand behind April.

She was rocking from side to side on her hip, fidgeting as she waited, and she didn't turn around. Robert studied her from behind, not seeing a person who would lie about having sex with a colleague. He'd wondered, over the past couple of days, if Arizona and the grape vine hadn't gotten it wrong, but coming up with a coherent theory for that was even harder than trying to reconcile April's normal appearance with the idea that the grape vine hadn't gotten it wrong. He couldn't do either. In fact, it seemed the only thing he could do was to stare at her ass, and try not to think about the fantasies he'd been so close to letting himself have.

April reached up to tuck a stay hair back into her bun. She felt self-conscious, as if someone were scrutinizing her, but that was ridiculous, the barista was still helping the guy in front of her. She was just feeling a lack of composure from oversleeping and getting ready in a rush. She hadn't even had the time to make herself coffee or breakfast. She'd been exhausted from the night before, trekking around town trying to find her next apartment. She'd seen four, none of which had felt right, leaving her feeling a bit discouraged.

She'd decided that since she didn't have roommates with cars anymore to catch rides with, it made sense to move closer to the hospital. She was tired of spending an hour and a half of her day on the bus. So she'd looked at apartments a bit north and east of Seattle Grace, but though the places themselves had been fine, the buildings had all been filled with the type of twenty-somethings that ran wild on Capitol Hill. April didn't mind their aesthetic - it wasn't her thing, but the crazy colored hair, piercings, and oddly assorted fitted clothing was kind of fun to look at - but they did make her feel square and uncool, and she was tired of feeling out of place.

She wanted somewhere that actually felt like home to her. Somewhere that she could feel like the grownup that she wanted to be. Living with the other residents had been great, for awhile, but now that it was over, April was realizing that she'd never really been truly happy in the frat house atmosphere that had followed her friends around. She'd been letting herself dream, the past few days, about tending a little herb garden in a box on the kitchen windowsill, and art hanging on the walls that wasn't put up by someone else's mom.

Just as she was starting to daydream about what prints she might find in thrift stores, the guy in front of her finally stepped aside, and the barista smiled mechanically at her. "What can I start for you?" he asked.

"Doppio, room for cream," April replied, and watched as her drink was made. She would never be able to afford an espresso machine for her new place, but she was definitely not settling for one of those horrible automatic drip coffee machines, either, she thought, thinking grimly of both the newer machine that Meredith had taken with her, and the ancient one she'd left behind. A french press, she decided, and her own little grinder. It would be a nice ritual every morning, listening to the whir of the motor and watching through the glass as the beans released their flavorful oils.

"There you go," said the barista, interrupting her reverie again by setting her drink down on the counter. "That's $3.96." April handed him a five dollar bill, smiled and thanked him, dropped a bit of half and half into her cup, and walked away with a renewed resolve to find the perfect apartment.

Robert suppressed a sigh of relief. She'd never even noticed him. "Cappucino, tall, extra dry," he said brusquely, and the barista turned away once again, leaving him to struggle with the same dichotomy he'd been faced with for days.

"Friends, you know? We're - we're friends." It certainly didn't line up with " ...overheard Dr. Kepner telling Dr. Karev that she'd slept with you." What did April want from him?

It was going to be a long week.

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