Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy
Characters: Meredith Grey, Izzie Stevens, George O’Malley
Date Written: May 2006
Timeline: No where during the first two seasons, that’s for sure. So, hmm. Maybe sometime shortly after?
Word Count: 574
Disclaimer: The characters of Grey’s Anatomy do not belong to me. They belong to ABC and their creator and whoever else has stock in them. I’m just borrowing them for a little fun.
Summary: Meredith really was having a horrible day.
Author's Note: First attempt writing a fic for Grey's Anatomy and written around midnight when the author should have been asleep. Please excuse all inaccuracies.
“Oh god. Izzie!”
Meredith Gray was not having a good day. In fact, it was quite the opposite of such. Between losing a patient within the first thirty minutes of her shift, being lectured by Doctor Bailey not just once, but twice, and getting stuck in the middle of an argument between Derek McDreamy Sheppard and his wife, it was clear. Meredith Gray was not having a good day at all.
Which was, of course, the whole reason why she had come home early that night, declining Cristina’s invitation of drinks at Joe’s Bar in favor of a more relaxful evening alone with ice cream, a bubble bath, and her favorite soap. But you had to hand it to Meredith Grey. Her life never did exactly go as planned.
“Oh my god, Izzie!”
She had recognized the blonde ponytail sticking out from behind the kitchen entranceway. And she could see the abandoned cupcake batter and could here the sounds – male and female both – coming from inside the room.
Was that a sock and a blouse on the floor?
“Izzie Stevens, I’m going to give you ten seconds,” she began to say; squeezing her eyes shut in trepidation of what could come next.
But Meredith never had a chance to finish that thought when Isobel Stevens moved her head into view as she pushed away a hand that was making its way up to her face. A face that could very easily be summed up in one word: shock.
“Meredith.” It was said with a wince. “Oh god, you’re home early.”
“Damn right I am,” Meredith replied, hands on hips, pocket book falling against her side. She made no attempt to move from her spot. She didn’t need to see any more. This was already bad enough. “And just what did you think you were doing? In my--”
This time, it was the voice of Izzie Steven’s accomplice that interrupted her thoughts. One rather confused and worried George O’Malley was now poking his head out from behind the wall, staring at Meredith from his position above the woman below.
Meredith Grey’s eyes closed and she placed a hand to her forehead, fighting an incoming headache. Somehow, someway, the universe had screwed with her again. An already impossible day had just gotten worse.
In the time it took Meredith to steady herself, Izzie and George had removed themselves from the kitchen floor and had made a clumsy attempt to recover ill-strayed clothing. Both looked rather sheepish at being caught, although George’s look of mortification clearly outranked Izzie’s any day.
“Okay, so we’re just going to--”
“Izzie. George.” Now it was Meredith’s turn to interrupt. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” George replied, flashing Meredith a sympathetic grin.
At the same time, Izzie replied, “I’m George’s best friend,” as if she were reaffirming the thought to herself.
“Right. And I’m Izzy’s, so um, we’ll just be going now,” George O’Malley finished as Izzie Stevens began to usher him out of the room and towards the stairs.
It was at this moment, while she was watching the two friends (something more than friends?) make their escape that Meredith Grey decided she could take no more of this. Fishing through her purse to pull out her cell phone, she flipped the lid open and quickly dialed a number on speed dial.
“Cristina? It’s Meredith. I think I need that drink after all.”