"Hurry up, and listen up. I have a ton of work to do, and I don't have all day to be your acting chaperone." Dr. Miranda Bailey called out to the surgical residents and attendees over the breadth of the counter-top that was flooded with medical reports, patient information, and cleverly reserved scud work intended for patients with the nastiest assortment of undemanding ailments for the new hires to oversee. "A few of you have found this hospital to be your personal playground, and mating quarters. As long as you are under my jurisdiction, you are to abide by my rules." She paused to acknowledge a few scattered snickers before further asserting her command, "I'm glad to see that you are amused with yourselves, but I will not be encouraging this type of recreation any further. Seattle Grace is a learning hospital. We are here to teach, to learn, and to heal. Anything above the act of random socialization for the betterment of your assigned tasks while on my watch is uncalled for. Do you understand?"

Dr. Bailey spoke to us like children, which was understandable. We acted out like children almost regularly. Most of the time, working here was a sport. We were always fighting for the next best surgery. Not to mention, she pretty much raised all of us from the medical womb. But after years of working alongside her at the hospital, it still amazed me due to Miranda's short stature and all, how much power was truly contained in such a small person.

"Now, I'm only here to hand out your elected assignments, beyond that, go bother someone else with your senseless jargon. Grey, here's your list of surgeries." Miranda waved the profoundly stuffed manila folders at me in an irritated fashion. I didn't take it personally as I removed them from her fierce grip.

While we all dispersed from our quick meeting with Dr. Bailey, Catherine Avery bowed her playful head out of a nearby closet, beckoning Dr. Webber to join her in a moment of rousing passion. "Come on, Richard." She sweet talked Dr. Webber into a willful daze as they firmly pressed their lips against each other, and they began their covert escapade in the boundless dark of their secret gathering space.

****

"What did you get?" Cristina nosily snatched the crisp documents from my hands. She was reading them through very thoroughly before I even got to sneak a peek for myself. "Oh, looks like you'll be getting to work with McDreamy today." She smirked lightheartedly before reading a few more of my patient forms; still withholding the extent of the juicy high-quality cases I was given for the day.

"Well, what did you get?" I asked as she effortlessly handed over her papers. I could sense that she was dreading the fact that she might have to work with Dr. Hunt today. "You have some pretty good heart surgeries today, Cristina...A Cardiac Edema...Myocardial Infarction...those are all intensive, but a walk in the park to someone like you that could finish them with your eyes closed. You'll be out of here in a heartbeat, no pun intended, obviously..."

"You like those surgeries?" Cristina asked not really caring about my response, "You can have them."

"Nice try." I hurriedly switched our folders, "I think that it would do you some good to work with Owen today. I mean, you don't have to talk about anything other than work...just as long as you two finally talk." I started walking away before Cristina could retort my ultimatum. I playfully waved my folders over my shoulder back in her direction to say goodbye.

"Fine, I'll talk to him." She spun around mid-sentence to find that Owen was standing in the elevator she was preparing to board, "But later..." she whispered to herself as she stealthily veered down the hall.

Dr. Hunt tried to call out to her, while a sea of residents entered the elevator, and the doors turned him away from his forced efforts of speaking with Cristina.

****

"You're performing what on me?" Bethany Hinkle was stirred with the fear of her diagnosis as I tried to explain the procedure to her.

"A hypophysectomy..." I pulled up a chair to help talk her through my recent findings and my subsequent course of action.

"And what is that exactly?" Hinkle tightly gripped the bedspread, as a growing wall of tenderness enveloped her skull, and she started to complain about a sense of lightheadedness. "I'm sorry..." she breathed through the pain, "I sometimes get overcome with this intense headache and it makes it really difficult to concentrate."

"You don't have to apologize, Ms. Hinkle." I tried my best to console her as I pushed my chair nearer to her, "But, you're in luck, because surgery will be sure to help eliminate the tenderness and head fog you've been dealing with lately." I allowed her to breathe a little longer so she could absorb my words before she asked me what the procedure was called again. "It's called a hypophysectomy, and that's just a fancy word for a simple surgical removal of a portion of your pituitary gland at the base of your brain..."

"My brain..." Bethany started to get anxious, "You mean, brain surgery?"

"Dr. Grey, if I may kindly interject..." My husband, Dr. Shepherd approached the computer to help shed light on the situation through the use of tomography, photos produced during a recent scan of Hinkle's brain. "After we ran through your blood work and radial scans, we stumbled upon this hidden gem at the tip of your brain-stem." Derek highlighted the image with his diminutive flashlight. As he circled the tiny fog-like mass, Hinkle strained again. This time the pain was accompanied by worried sobs.

"Surgery just sounds like too much to handle. Do I at least get a second opinion?" The weary patient looked at us both through sodden eyes.

"Bethany, Dr. Shepherd is your second opinion." I grabbed her hand in reassurance. Calmly sliding a box of Kleenex in her direction, "And you don't have to worry, because he is one of the best doctors in the field."

"You are?" Her sobbing turned into labored sniffles.

"Yes, I am. Actually, I'm one of the top, most sought after brain surgeons in the state of Washington. And, Dr. Grey here is quite excellent at her craft as well."

"Can I call my family before the operation? You know, to let them know that I'm here in case anything happens?" Hinkle dried her eyes with a few wrinkled tissues.

"Of course you can." I softly rubbed her hand with my thumb. "Kepner..." I called out into the hall as April Kepner was trotting past the room, arms full of bags of saline solution.

"Yes, Dr. Grey?" April was unashamedly the overachieving academic type, with her perfectly styled red hair and flawlessly concentrated zeal toward practicing medicine. She was already preparing to grab her small notepad from her pocket before placing the bags of fluid on the table behind her.

"I would like you to book me an OR for this afternoon." Kepner's hands hurriedly jotted down the words and I was tickled by her slow going efforts.

"Is that all?" April asked bashfully smiling in Derek's direction. It was also no surprise to me that she had a bit of a crush on my husband. Seeing his attractiveness up close and personal every day, I couldn't blame her. I was still crushing on him, and we'd been committed to one another for years.

"Yes, that's all. Thank you, April." I gauged her expression with my own two eyes, as she continued peering over at my oblivious husband. Bless her for her persistence. She was almost lulling me to interject, but I remained tight-lipped on the subject as Derek knowingly avoided her willful advances.

"You're welcome, Dr. Grey. Goodbye Dr. Shepherd." There was an ounce of flirtatious energy that danced on the edge of her words. She smiled delicately to herself as she merrily left the room. The sound of the sloshing liquid was bouncing around riotously in her arms as she quietly departed further out of sight. And I was left marveling at her tenacity in the wake of my palpable stare.

"Okay Ms. Hinkle, let's let you get some rest before your surgery. Dr. Grey and I will go and call your family and let them know that you're here at Seattle Grace." Derek turned off the computer screen before adjusting the dosage in her IV. As he motioned toward the door, I slowly lowered the lights in the room, softly treading in his footsteps a few seconds behind him. But before I could leave, Hinkle quietly called out to me.

"Thank you, Doctor." Bethany said groggily. She sounded like she might cry again as her voice grew into a strident murmur. While she tried to get properly situated on the sterile hospital bed, the white fabric ruffled a little as she pulled up the covers beneath her quivering chin.

Sensing her fear with the overwhelming severity of her condition, I tried my best to reassure her, "You're going to be fine, Bethany. Nurses will be in and out to monitor you. And I'll also be back to check on you very soon. Try to get some sleep. Your body will thank you for it later..." I attempted to further relieve my patient as I softly closed the door behind me. While I prepped myself to speak to my next case about their waning condition as well, an annoyed Dr. Yang pranced down the hallway past me with a flock of clumsy attendees on her heals.

"Keep up!" Cristina called out to her group of wranglers as she seamlessly wove around wheelchair bound patients and busy nurses. I snickered at the sight, watching as they followed her every move like a herd of hungry cattle.