(no subject)
Title: Waiting For The Storm That Never Comes
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Ensemble cast. Pairings include Meredith/Derek, Alex/Izzie, and a few others.
Word Count: 4,281
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: My flist overwhelmingly voted for this fic -- I hope it doesn't disappoint. This is also the follow-up to the Meredith fic I posted last week.
Summary: Post finale, set about a year or so after that. Her fingernails press into the doorframe before she becomes aware that she's either going to break a nail or screw up the frame and she stops. "These things don't end well for us. Something always goes wrong."
“It’s not supposed to do that.”
Derek raises an eyebrow, which is much better than the glare she anticipated.
“Really. It’s not. I’m sure of it.”
“When did you become a chef?” He retorts.
“I’m not.” Meredith replies, as the timer on the oven goes off, telling her something, and really she has no clue what at this point, is done. “But it did not look like that in the book. At all.”
“The book is a guideline. Not an exact replica.” He pauses, thinking. “It’s an airbrushed replica.”
“Look, I just know that it’s supposed to inflate, not deflate, and this is like a balloon with a bullet hole in it. It’s deflated.”
“I told you to order out.” He’ll hide behind that, instead of accepting that neither of them is really good at the whole cooking thing. Or not this type of cooking.
She shakes her head, “That’s tacky. It’s a housewarming party. Who serves takeout food at a housewarming party?”
“Surgeons, that’s who.” He responds, with one eye on the clock. She doesn’t even want to know what time it is because that’ll only make her stress out and she needs to...not do that right now. No stressing out because the party is probably supposed to start soon and they’re still arguing about their inability to cook and whether Chinese food would’ve sufficed. He yawns, “Surgeons who haven’t slept in a very long time.”
“If you fall asleep I will pour the punch bowl on you, I swear.” She warns, heading into the living room for a reassuring glance out the window. The driveway is empty, just the way she wants it to stay for the next hour or so. The wind, however, is very active, and the trees sway in that sort of way where she’s worried one of the limbs might snap off and fall either just short of or directly on the house. And that would not be a good thing to happen at a housewarming party. Or ever for that matter.
“Why are you so nervous?” He calls, from the kitchen.
Her fingernails press into the wooden doorframe before she becomes aware that she’s either going to break a nail or screw up the doorframe and stops. “These things don’t end well for us. Something always goes wrong.”
“What happened to the optimism?”
She doesn’t answer, just watches the window. She doesn’t have an answer; she just knows it isn’t there. She’s anxious and she’s got this feeling that something’s going to go wrong that she just can’t shake. Feelings have never been very good to her. They usually result in bombs and near death experiences and this is just supposed to be one easy night. One carefree night with all their friends.
His hand is on her shoulder before she even realizes he’s in the room, and she doesn’t turn to him, she just stares.
“I have a feeling.” She admits.
He nods, she can tell from his reflection in the window as the trees cast shadows. “Sometimes it’s just a feeling.”
She’s not entirely convinced of that, but he doesn’t have to know that.
---
“Why are you calling me about the food?” Izzie’s voice is muffled through the phone, and it takes Meredith a minute to realize the rustling is her changing clothes.
“You bake. All the time. Who else am I going to call?” She keeps her voice low, so he can’t hear her, wherever he is.
“Yes, baking. Not cooking. I couldn’t even cook a turkey; Burke had to teach me.”
“Well you probably know more than we do.”
“Why didn’t you just order out?”
“Cause I didn’t.” She practically hisses, wondering how many times she’s going to have to hear that today. “Look can you just get here early.”
There’s a sigh, then, “Yes, but I don’t think I’m going to be much help.” There’s a beeping that’s going off in the background that seems to be getting increasingly louder.
“Is that your pager?”
“No.”
Meredith frowns, then suddenly, “Is that the smoke alarm?”
“No.” Izzie sounds annoyed that she even suggested that, but her voice becomes faint as she yells, presumably away from the phone. “Alex, what is that?” She can’t hear his response, but she imagines it must’ve been something other than ‘the house is on fire’ because Izzie is relatively calm when she returns the phone to her ear. “Everything’s fine.”
Meredith doubts that but she doesn’t voice it, instead opting to repeat herself. “Seriously Izzie, early.”
“Yeah, we'll be there in twenty minutes.”
---
Cristina shows up with a bottle in each hand and “I think I ran over a squirrel” on her lips and Derek just kind of steps aside in that way that suggests ‘you deal with this’ and retreats back into the kitchen where Izzie is attempting to perform culinary CPR and Alex is trying to explain the merits of bold-faced lying on his essay to Lexie, who was also early and is currently straddling a dining chair backwards.
“Tell me you didn’t do it on purpose.” She takes one of the bottles and fights the temptation to uncap it and take the edge off.
“It’s not my fault it didn’t move fast enough.” It’s less of a defense and more of a statement as she wanders inside.
“You ran over a squirrel?” Izzie squeaks from the kitchen, as they migrate in there, and Meredith is briefly thankful that it’s as big as it is.
“Yes, a squirrel. Don’t make a big deal of it.” Cristina wrinkles her nose. “Maybe you should serve that; at least we know that’s dead.”
“Shut up.” Meredith and Izzie both say at the same time, both equally annoyed, and Cristina doesn’t protest or say anything back.
“Where’s George?” Izzie asks, addressing this to Lexie, while she sets a timer and checks the microwave.
“He’s doing post-op. He’ll probably be here soon.” She fidgets in her chair at the mention of her roommate and Meredith makes a mental note to come back to that later.
“Yeah, exactly how many people are going to be here?” Derek asks, and they all kind of eye Meredith, waiting for the answer, whether out of curiosity or because they already know it’s bigger than she probably initially said it would be.
“I’m not...exactly sure. A few. Just people from work.” Izzie smiles to herself and Meredith adds, “You should not be talking about big parties.”
“And look how well that worked for me. He dumped me before we even got to the party.” Izzie replies.
“Totally different situation. Totally different.” There will be no dumping at this party. They’re way past that stage. “Also, not helping.”
Izzie sighs but says no more.
---
“And you were going to sell the land.” Mark says, shaking his head at Derek.
“That was before.” Derek replies, no explanation needed, before he asks what she wants to know. “Any particular reason you showed up with Callie and Erica?” For their part they appear to be in a conversation all of their own on the other side of the room.
“We left at the same time.” Is his only excuse.
“I thought Hahn didn’t like you.” Meredith says, watching her lean towards Callie as she whispers something to her, thinking that they - and she means all three of them - have been behaving oddly for awhile now.
He shrugs. “Things change.”
The doorbell rings and Meredith excuses herself to go answer it, only to find the chief, an uneasy smile on his face as he simply says, by way of greeting, “Meredith.”
She nods and smiles, “Chief,” and her lack of hostility puts him at ease. They still seem to walk on eggshells with each other, remnants of her mother’s life.
He moves past her, as Derek looks his way, and she’s about to close the door when she sees a straggler coming up her driveway.
“George, you’re late.” She says, holding the door open to let him in.
“Yeah, sorry, there was just a mix up with labs and they’re reassigning some of the interns to me.” He replies, taking off his coat, and Meredith nods. “Is Lexie here yet?”
Meredith scans the room but can’t find her. “She’s here somewhere.”
He nods, going to look for her, and it makes her head towards the kitchen to see if she could find her first and maybe ask her what was up with them.
But Lexie isn’t in the kitchen.
Izzie and Alex are in the kitchen. More specifically Izzie is sitting on Meredith’s new granite countertop with her long legs loosely wrapped around Alex, keeping him close, her lips on his and her eyes closed so she never sees Meredith find them and she doesn’t see her silently close the door either, giving them their privacy.
---
“Earth to Meredith.”
She wonders how long Cristina was standing there before getting her attention. “Sorry. Yeah?”
“You’re staring off into space like a crazy person.” Cristina tells her, leaning against the wall and handing Meredith a drink. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Izzie and Alex are making out on my countertops. I’m fairly sure there’s something going on with George and my sister. And Mark is doing something wrong and possibly illegal with either Callie, Hahn, or both.” She pauses, once-overing the room again. “So nothing’s wrong. I’m just...wondering when everybody started having lives I don’t know about.”
“Everyone already knew about Alex and Izzie.” Cristina provides. “They’re all happy or whatever.”
“I know. It’s not them I’m worried about.” There’s a raised eyebrow sent her way at some point, as she adds, “Aside from the countertop thing. It’s the others.”
“Why do you care anyway? I thought you didn’t like the rumor mill.”
When it’s about her she doesn’t like it, she thinks but doesn’t say because that’s not something you just put out there. “It’s not a rumor if it’s actually happening.” She watches Callie sidle up to Mark by the bar they’ve got set up, saying things Meredith can’t even try to make out, tapping her nails against the wooden surface there. “You live with Callie, wouldn’t you know if something was going on?”
Cristina frowns at her. “No.”
Of course not. Because even if she had the opportunity she probably wouldn’t care what was going on behind closed doors. Of course.
---
“Sorry about that.” And there’s a long list of things Alex could be possibly apologizing for so she honestly has no idea which one this is.
“About what?”
“I heard you close the door.” He replies, without saying it, and her memory kicks in a second later.
She nods, “It’s fine.” Really, it’s not that big of a deal, she thinks. But it is kind of amusing that these are the things he apologizes for, while he lets the big things slide. “I was just looking for Lexie. Have you seen her?”
Alex shakes his head, locates the clock on the wall. “Not for about an hour.”
Which figures because she hasn’t seen him in a while either and he’s probably been focused elsewhere. No surprise there. Maybe they’ve always all been in their own little worlds and she’s just never bothered to notice. “You didn’t really burn down my house right?”
“What…?”
“Earlier, when I called, there was a beeping and Izzie yelled at you. You didn’t burn down my house did you?”
He smirks, shakes his head. “No, I didn’t.” There’s a pause then, “And technically it’s not your house anymore. Unless you plan on dumping Shepherd and moving back.”
She glares at the implication. “No, I just don’t trust you two alone.”
That smirk only widens, becomes more mischievous. “Good. You shouldn’t.”
There are some things Meredith doesn't want to know and she decides this is one of them, so she just lets the sentence hang there.
---
One minute Meredith’s listening, but not really processing, to Alex taunting Callie about being as bad as the nurses for sleeping with Mark. Meredith hears her refute those claims a few times, and everyone knows Callie can hold her own just fine. But Alex is persistent, like he’s trying to get something out of her other than just state what seems to everyone to be the obvious.
Meredith doesn’t understand this, of course, until Hahn finally gets tired of listening to them and, in one swift move, gets in between them and plants a kiss on Callie’s lips in front of everyone. And from the look on ninety percent of people’s faces, no one had any clue that at some point those two had switched teams.
Apparently this isn’t just a housewarming party. It’s a coming out party as well.
---
Part 2