The Likes of You

Miranda's eyes popped open and she looked around her room, a little disoriented. She made a face and groaned a little. A small headache was brewing behind her eye. And it would get out of control if she didn't curb it with Tylenol and food. She said a quick prayer, took three deep breaths and rolled out of bed. Sliding into her slippers, she went to the chair in the corner of the room, picked up her robe and pulled it on. She tightened it as she headed to her son's room and sat on the edge of his bed. "Tuck," she said rubbing her eyes. She smiled as she saw him turn in her direction and peek at her with one eye open and one closed. Miranda rubbed her eyes again. He looked so much like her (almost) ex-husband. Sometimes when he looked at him, she could clearly see Tucker or her father, even her mother, everyone except the one person she wanted to see the most, herself. And it frustrated her to no end. The three-year old scrunched up his face and moaned a little. Miranda smiled. Hello, little Miranda, she thought. She bent down to kiss his head and told him that it was time to get up. "And you're going to daddy's house this weekend, so he's going to come and get you from school."

His eyes brightened and he moved out of the bed, hopping down to the carpeted floor. "Yay!" He said excitedly. She wondered if he felt the same way about coming back home. Was he as excited to see her as he was to see his father? "Are you coming?" He asked.

A lump appeared in her throat, one that challenged her headache. Even though it had been six months, Tuck still wasn't used to her separation from Tucker. There were still nights when he'd ask when Daddy was coming home. She was just glad that his behavior in school was a lot better now compared to last year. Last year, she and Tucker were constantly being called in because their son was hitting other students and having severe temper tantrums. There had been several meetings about whether he was academically and emotionally ready to be in Pre-K 4, being a full year and a half behind his peers. If they'd enrolled him in a public school, the administration wouldn't have bothered to test him for Pre-K 4, but a private school tested him and concluded that he could handle it. Tucker thought they should put him in Pre-K 3 until he turned three, but Miranda had protested. Once she and Tucker separated, and Tuck had started acting out, Tuck's teachers started talking about keeping him back. He wasn't ready to move on to Kindergarten, they said. Once again, Miranda was against it and for a long time, she felt guilty. Maybe they should have put him back. She didn't know, but what she did know was that she wanted to do what was best for Tuck. The one person who thought she was great and right no matter what decision she made. "No, I'm not going to be able to go with you," she said as she pulled out his uniform from the drawer.

"Why not?" He asked.

Miranda licked her lips. "We talked about this, remember?" She asked answering his question with a question. The young boy thought for a second before he nodded. "Okay. So when you go to Daddy's house, do I go with you?" He shook his head. "No, I don't." She held out her hand and he took it. She pulled her son into her arms. She kissed his head again and looked down at him. "But when are you going to see mommy again?"

"On Sun—Monday! On Monday!" He exclaimed. "You will pick me up from school."

It was her turn to nod. "Exactly." Tuck smiled and Miranda watched as he bounced out of his room and to the bathroom to brush his teeth. "Don't lock the door," she reminded him.

After she showered and got dressed, Miranda made breakfast. When she and Tuck were finished eating, Miranda drove him to school. She made sure that he was safely inside of the building before heading towards the hospital. She changed into her scrubs and turned to walk out of the locker room. "Good morning, ladies," Miranda said as she breezed by Callie and Arizona on her way the room of her first patient. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and threw on a smile before going into the room. "Who's up?" She asked.

"I am," Meredith Grey said. "Tricia Shelley, 31, Megan Shelley, 27 and Michael Shelley, 23. Genetic testing revealed that they all carry the CDH1 gene for hereditary diffuse gastric cancer."

"Which means what, Dr. Yang?" Miranda asking taking the chart from Grey's hands.

"Which means that they all have a 3-in-4 chance of developing the cancer," Cristina said confidently.

"Dr. Bailey has taken tumors out of pretty much everyone on our mother's side," the oldest sibling, Tricia, said nonchalantly. She sat near her sister's bed in a wheelchair.

"Unfortunately, it's a highly aggressive cancer. The tumors grow quickly, so by the time I get in there—" Miranda's spiel was cut short.

"Our family tree is down to a branch," Tricia said staring at Yang.

Miranda asked about various family members and found out that they were all dead or close to death. "So, uh," Miranda started. "You've decided you're ready to take the next step."

Tricia and Megan nodded. "We've made a pact. We're all in this together." Miranda looked from the one sibling to the next. The youngest looked unbothered. Meg looked confused. The oldest sibling looked worried. "Cut out our stomachs, Dr. Bailey," the oldest sibling said. Her voice wasn't filled with ice, nor did she convey the feeling that they'd come to their decision lightly, she was confident and scared. They all were.

Miranda took a breath. "You're sure?" They nodded again, the youngest one reluctantly. "Alright then. Doctors Yang and Grey will get you the paperwork and go over it with you. Any questions you have can be directed to them." Miranda smiled sympathetically and walked out of the room.

An hour later, Miranda stopped by the Shelley's shared room to hear the siblings in the midst of a heated argument. "You're not in charge of me anymore, Trish!" Michael shouted.

"Meg?" Tricia said looking to her younger sister for support.

"I didn't realize it was such a big deal," Meg said. "I just—I just need a little time to think about it, okay?"

"So you'd rather die like Mom or Grandpa or Uncle Bud?" Tricia asked. "And it's not quick, Mike. It's a slow, painful way to go." Tricia licked her lips and wheeled out of the room, nearly bumping into Miranda. "Oph, Dr. Bailey. Sorry."

"It's…. no problem," Miranda told the girl. "Let me help you." Miranda grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and pushed her out of the room and down a deserted hall. Tricia started to cry. "Hey now. Hey. Look, I know how it feels when people who are supposed to be behind you falter. But, they have a point." Tricia used her hospital gown to wipe her eyes. "A gastrectomy isn't like getting your, uh, appendix out, alright? We're changing the way your entire digestive systems work. This is a serious adjustment. And they just need a little time before they make a decision."

Tricia nodded. "Mike is president of his frat. And Meg loves to snowboard." She sighed loudly, more tears falling. Miranda rubbed her back. "I'm just trying to do what I think is best for them. For us."

"That's great, but for now, let's think about you. Let's get you back to your room because your procedure is in half an hour." Tricia nodded and Miranda helped her back to her room.

Leaving Tricia's room, Miranda headed to the Nurses' Station where she came across the Chief. "Chief!"

"Yes, Dr. Bailey. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could assist me with a gastrectomy in a bit."

"Sure! I haven't done a surgery in nearly a week!" He said with a chuckle. Richard reminded Miranda so much of her father. He was a tall, dark man with dark brown eyes and always the one with an inspirational word or a kick in the ass.

"Good. I'll be in OR 3 in twenty minutes," Miranda said as she turned to walk away. "Wait, uh, actually, Dr. Warren wants to observe and I said it was okay, but I also said that I'd check with you first."

He put his hands on his hips. "So you want your boyfriend to observe a surgery?" Miranda rolled her eyes and nodded. "Is this a date?"

"Sir!" Miranda said sighing deeply.

Richard chuckled to himself. "It's fine. It's fine. Of course it's fine." He picked up a file that a nurse was holding out to him.

Miranda left him there laughing loudly. As she strolled down the hall, she heard a hissing noise. "Pssst!" She looked around wildly. "Psssst, Bailey!"

"Who is hissing at me!?" She asked aloud.

Ben stepped from behind a door and looked up and down the hall. He gestured her over to him. She looked both ways before going to him. He gently pulled her inside and locked the door. Ben put his arms around her waist and pushed her against the door. She moaned quietly, her legs shaking. Ben lifted her chin and his lips attacked her neck. "Oh God!" Miranda held onto his head and he kissed her. The doorknob jiggled from the outside, making her jump. She pushed Ben away. "I'm at work," she said to herself.

"Me, too," he answered, tucking his undershirt back into his scrub pants. He moved closer to her, smiling slyly.

"So you can't just kiss me like that. I'm going into surgery shortly." Ben lifted her arms and put them around his neck. "W-we're going into surgery shortly."

"So the Chief said it was cool if I joined you guys?" Ben put his arms back around her waist. She tried to resist his smile. But him touching her like that and caressing the small of her back, pulling her in, making her lean in… Miranda kissed him, grabbing his face and pushing her tongue into his mouth. She gasped and pulled away. "I'll take that as a yes." Ben kissed her quickly before she moved away. He reached over and opened the door. "I'll see you later." Then he was gone.

Along with her residents and mentor, Miranda worked diligently on Tricia. The General Surgery Attending looked up quickly into the eyes of her boyfriend. His thin eyes indicated that he was smiling. Miranda was glad that a mask covered half of her blushing face. "After I take out the stomach, what will I do next, Dr. Yang?" Miranda asked the resident.

Not missing a beat, Yang replied: "Sew the esophageal anastomosis."

"Or the other option, Grey?" The Chief asked the other resident hovering over the body.

"You could staple the anastomosis," Grey responded without breaking eye contact with the body cavity.

"Now why would I want to do that?" He asked. Both Yang and Grey started to answer. He shook his head. "Warren."

"Sir?" Ben said leaning in a little.

"I asked why I would staple the anstomosis," the Chief said looking straight at Miranda. Her heart was pounding and she had no idea why.

Ben thought for a second. "It's because—well, I think it's because fistula rates can be higher when you hand sew." He exhaled deeply. Miranda looked over at him and winked. He was absolutely right.

Miranda was so impressed. She had no idea that Ben was interested in surgery. While they scrubbed out with the Chief next to them, Ben leaned towards her. "Great work, Dr. Bailey."

She kept her face straight. "Thank you, Dr. Warren."

"And thank you, sir, for allowing me to observe," Ben said to the Chief.

"No problem," he responded. Her mentor continued to scrub. "I heard from Dr. Anwar that you were thinking about becoming a surgical resident at some point."

It was Ben's turn to blush. He glanced at Miranda quickly before saying: "Well, I—it's… you know, just a thought."

Richard placed his hands on his hips. "You should really think about it. I'd be happy to talk to you a little more if you want." Ben nodded. Richard turned his attention to his Miranda. "Good job, Bailey, as usual. Thanks." He opened the door. "I'll, uh, I'll let you two get back to your date," he said with a laugh.

He was gone before Miranda could protest. "Date?" Ben asked.

"He thinks that we're on a date," she told him. Ben nodded and smirked and started to speak, but Miranda was impatient and rushed into the next subject. "I didn't know you were into General."

"Well, nothing personal, it's not just General, but surgery in general." They looked at each other and cracked up. She loved his laugh; everything seemed to be funnier when they were together. "I was thinking about pursuing it one day."

"You should! You should!" Miranda said touching his hand. His hand locked with hers, sending the butterflies in her stomach flying around. Their moment was interrupted by one of her residents coming into the scrub room.

Yang looked at Miranda and Ben and then down to their interlocked hands. Miranda shook Ben's hand away. "The sister wants the surgery," she said with a slight smile.

Ben looked at the resident. "Are you… smiling?" He asked with a smirk of his own.

Yang shook her head, the smile disappearing. "Um, no."

Miranda went into Attending mode. "Yes, you are. Go and schedule her for the gastrectomy for tomorrow."

Yang nodded and left. "You have another procedure?" Ben asked.

"Oh no. I am going home and getting ready for our date."

"Well then, I will pick you up at six." Ben held the door open for her to walk through. She nodded and moved past him a little. He grabbed her arm gently. "Hey."

Miranda turned to look at him. He smiled and kissed her quickly before leaving the scrub room. She leaned on the door, the thoughts loud in her head.