CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN
state of love and trust.
season six, episode thirteen.

          SOMETIMES, CASSIE THOUGHT SHE COULD HEAR THE UNIVERSE LAUGHING AT HER. Even after a rather enlightening session with her therapist, in which she was informed that the cosmos don't actually have the ability to laugh in the face of twenty five year old geniuses with severe commitment issues, she still wasn't entirely convinced. Even off the top of her head, she could recall several times in which she heard cackling coming down from the heavens, a humorous finger pointed at her in inculpation.

Example number one, the day her mother died in a stiff hospital bed, completely alone, while Cassie was waiting in line to order her birthday cake.

Example number two, that one time when a psycho blonde manipulated her pseudo-father into proposing, got Cassie shot, and murdered the aforementioned pseudo-father (in that order).

Example number three, the day her best friend promised, to her face, that he would see her again despite being shipped off to war, and then decided to get run over by a bus twenty minutes later.

And finally, example number four; trudging into the bathroom half asleep with drowsy steps, just to be greeted with an incredibly smug (and very, very naked) Mark Sloan.

If she weren't so confused, Cassie probably would have laughed along with the universe at that one.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" she screeched, a hand shooting into the open air as she expertly avoided looking at his... area. Another hand covered her eyes, fingers brushing against the day old mascara she'd neglected to take off the night before. "Dude, get out!"

Mark just smiled, unperturbed by the way Cassie refused to even glance in his direction. He did, however, notice the blush coming over her cheeks. His smile grew.

"My water heater's broken. Callie said it would be fine if I used your shower," he shrugged casually, stepping under the spray of water (which Cassie hadn't even noticed was running) and shutting the glass door. Cassie peeked one eye open, letting out a relieved sigh at the fog on the glass covering his lower half. "You know, it's polite to knock. I could've been... indecent."

She didn't miss the teasing tone his voice held, nor the way he left enough room in the shower for an extra person.

"Just—" Cassie paused, awkwardness seeping into her bones after the memories of their last conversation came back at full force. "Just let me know when you're done, I need to wash my hair."

"You're hair already looks perfect, Cass."

A painfully obvious lie, Cassie noted, despite the deepening redness surrounding her nose at the sentiment.

"Mark," she scolded with an uncomfortable laugh, her arms moving to cover her chest, inadvertently pushing her loose sleep shirt against her skin. She hadn't been expecting company — his company — before she had a chance to make herself look presentable. "I thought we— what happened to the whole waiting until I'm ready thing?"

Mark wasn't quite sure what she was on about. "I am waiting. Patiently, if I do say so myself." He sent her a dazzling grin, the overhead light reflecting against his pearly white teeth. "You're welcome, by the way."

His arms moved upwards, flashing her his abdomen while he lathered shampoo along the scalp of his hair.

He was growing it out, Cassie noted, feeling an unwelcome urge to run her hands through it... maybe while she— no, god, she really shouldn't be thinking about that.

If her therapist could see her now, she was pretty sure Rain would recommend something along the lines of institutionalization due to excessive thoughts about ex-boyfriends hair. Forcing herself to violently snap out of her thoughts, Cassie's eye twitched, mouth agape as her brain attempted to think of something to say in response.

"I— I hate you."

Very eloquent, Cassie. Bravo.

Mark sent her a confused frown, but even through the haziness of the glass, and the rose-colored lenses of her eyes, she could tell it was wildly insincere. "Well the last time I checked, you said, and I quote, I love you, I want to be with you, and I want to love you the way you deserve." Of course, Cassie wasn't surprised Mark Sloan would be the type of person to memorize something that she said weeks prior. He wasn't even looking at her when he added, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that doesn't quite sound like hate to me."

Cassie cringed, reminding herself for future reference to never again be drunk and sad at the same time.

After all, doing so had a history of causing her to blurt out a slew of painfully embarrassing love declarations, which are then used against her at a later date, despite said declarations being confessed in the confidence of her drunken rambles.

"Shut up, Mark," was all she responded with, the burning in her cheeks more prominent than ever.

In wake of her uneasiness, she left without another word, slamming the door behind her as she left him to shower with his own devices. Subconsciously, she wanted to make some sort of point with the action, however her attempts were quickly proven futile.

Perhaps it was the innate stubbornness that made her trip over her own feet on the way out; or maybe, just maybe, the universe hadn't quite finished laughing yet.

"Oh, fuck you," Cassie said under her breath, as if she was speaking to the universe (or god, or something else of that nature) itself. Haphazardly stumbling back onto her feet, she dusted herself off, mindlessly saying a prayer that the day ahead of her wouldn't be as shitty as it started out.

☆

"Hey, could I... can I talk to you?"

Cassie stiffened at the familiar masculine voice, not removing her gaze from the sea of doctors below her.

Standing up on the landing, as opposed to the main lobby with her friends and colleagues, was her subconscious way of taking charge; today wasn't going to suck, and she planned to do everything in her power to make sure of that. It just so happened that ignoring people's inquiries of talking was within that power.

She idly glanced to the right, spotting Derek adjusting his blue tie in the middle of stairs. All eyes were on him as he flushed with nerves, and for once, Cassie had absolutely no clue what he was planning to do.

After all, it's not every day the head of neurosurgery sells out the Chief so he can get a fancier job and a pay raise (with an office, thank you very much). Granted, Cassie was fully aware that Derek's intentions were mostly pure, but from an outside perspective, she was pretty sure he seemed like a total asshole.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yeah," Cassie responded without thinking, her gaze locked in place. She heard the man behind her shuffle his feet in place, almost like he didn't have a clue what to do with them. "I heard you."

He paused, his words dying in his throat as he stared into the back of her head. Attempting a different method of gaining her attention, he moved so he was standing next to her, his arm resting against the ledge overlooking the main lobby.

Cassie, who was previously in the same position, immediately moved a good arms length away. Today is not going to suck, she reminded herself, despite her jaw clenching in annoyance.

"Listen, I just—"

"Avery, I know you and your fancy green eyes may not be used to rejection," Cassie said through closed teeth, not removing her eyes from an anxious Derek. "But usually, when a woman ignores you, it's polite to take the hint."

Jackson wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.

It had been over a month since they first met, over a month since they'd shared a bag of doritos and bonded, and over a month since he'd said literally anything else to her. Granted, he came close on several occasions, but something always seemed to stop him; the worst part, is that he had absolutely no clue why.

Jackson Robert Avery was many things, none of them being a nervous man. On the contrary, really; nine times out of ten, he was the bravest one in the room (at least, that's the first compliment his mother always gave while in the midst of bragging).

But when it came to her, he found himself silently studying from afar rather than being the overtly confident guy he always was.

He'd been playing a tiring game with himself since he met her, spending hours working up the nerve to just say it, only to back out when the time actually came.

Part of the reason, was that he knew it would all be in vain. Even though he barely knew her, he did know what people had been whispering around the hospital.

Poor Dr. Harper, losing her best friend and relationship all at once. Jackson was fully aware that entering her life, as a friend or as something else, would only add onto the stress she was under. But after a month of waiting for her to be better, he was sure that if he held off any longer, he himself would explode into a million pieces.

After all, if you have something to say, you should say it... right?

"Could we just... maybe... go somewhere private?" Jackson stuttered out, his voice cracking quietly as he did so. Gesturing towards the door to the storage area down the hall, he inclined his head inwards, attempting to get in Cassie's field of view. "To talk?"

"No," Cassie instantly shot him down, causing whatever ounce of hope he had to slowly dwindle down into nothing. Finally, her head turned to face him, the caving of his eyebrows prompting her to scoff a laugh. "Dude, you've been staring at me like a creep for the past month. Forgive me for not blindly following you into a supply closet to talk."

"I—" Jackson began to argue, before her blunt words fully registered with him. "Wait, what?"

A sigh of annoyance fell through her lips. Almost as if she was centering herself, or perhaps holding back from saying something she'd most likely regret.

Cassie shut her eyes for a moment. When they opened, they held an emotion Jackson couldn't quite decipher; still, he silently braced himself for whatever it was.

"Cassie no want to talk to Jackson." She spoke clearly, too clearly, in the same way one would speak to a misbehaving toddler (or, in this case, an overly persistent idiot). "Cassie think Jackson weird. Cassie no want to talk. Cassie want Jackson to leave." Tilting her head to the side, eerily mimicking a kindergarten teacher who really hates her job, she raised a single brow in question. "Jackson understand?"

He blinked at her.

"Jackson understand," he repeated solemnly, shifting his gaze to his feet in what could only be described as embarrassment.

The uneasiness on the catwalk was only amplified by the sound of Derek clearing his throat, his unnecessarily long written speech in hand.

The new Chief publicly entered the lion's den of angry doctors without an ounce of confidence, white collared shirt on display and waiting to be torn to shreds. Jackson watched, just like the rest of them, though his mind remained stuck on the girl to his right.

More importantly, the very real possibility that he'll never get a chance to tell her what he needed to, considering the fact that the only emotion she'd shown him was complete and utter hatred.

The brief conversation soon had him thinking back on his behavior since they'd met. He hadn't been coming off as creepy, had he?

Oblivious to the man having an internal crisis next to her, Cassie leaned further over the railing to get a better view of the crowd. Mark, who stood on the main floor next to Callie and Arizona, mindlessly admired the way her hair dangled in front of her face, cascading along her cheekbones and down her neck like a waterfall glides gracefully into a river.

It didn't take a good eye to notice his prominent staring, and it wasn't until Arizona harshly elbowed him in the ribs that Cassie even bothered to acknowledge it.

She sent him him a short wave, which came across much more teasingly than she intended.

Mark, however, didn't seem to mind, returning the wave with vigorous enthusiasm.

"Hello... everyone."

Derek spoke as if his words were causing him physical pain to stay trapped inside his brain. Cassie sort of felt bad for him... but not really. Derek made his bed when he exposed Richard, and now he had no choice but to lie in it.

(Of course, Cassie was sure that he didn't expect the bed to be filled with sharp needles waiting for him turn over just so they could have a chance at making him bleed, but it was his bed nonetheless.)

"Thank you all for being here today—"

"You are very welcome," Cassie announced to the crowd, humor evident in her voice despite it's exceeding volume. Hearing an all too familiar laugh coming from somewhere in the crowd, Cassie once again snapped her gaze over to Mark. The two shared a grin, silently communicating their mutual yet unspoken plan to embarrass the shit out of Derek Shepherd.

"I'll try to make this quick for you," Derek continued, purposely ignoring the ex couple.

Cassie didn't miss the death glare she received from Meredith as she publicly humiliated her husband, but if she were entirely honest, Cassie was having far too much fun to care.

In the end, Cassie didn't recall much of Derek's riveting speech, only paying attention when Webber joined the crowed, staring up at the man who took his job with loathing.

"I kinda feel bad for him," Cassie whispered out of the blue, resting her fist against her cheek.

Jackson snapped his head over to her, not before checking their surroundings to make sure that he wasn't dreaming, and that she was actually speaking to him. Meanwhile, Derek continued droning on about thankfulness or something of a similar nature.

"Bad for who?"

"Webber. He has a sickness. No one was really around to help him out, and the ones who were—" she glanced down to Meredith, "—only enabled his addiction, which cost him his job. It's sad, don't you think?"

Jackson took the question as an opportunity to make a better impression, one that didn't make him seem like a creepy stranger, slowly moving to copy her movements and lean against the railing. "Yeah, it is." He hesitated for a moment. "Webber totally deserves better."

Cassie sighed to herself, feeling bad for Richard, who in complete honestly, she still had mixed feelings about. Between the whole Izzie situation and giving the solo surgery to Cristina as some twisted form of punishment, she often had to remind herself that he was the one who saved her place in the residency program when she quit out of grief. And when she failed to complete even the simplest of tasks in the merger, and practically begged to be fired so she could be put out of her misery, he refused to let her quit for the second time. He'd made some mistakes, but none of them were unforgivable in her opinion.

Cassie owed Richard a lot, she realized.

"Um, so about what I—"

"Yeah, whatever," she unemotionally cut Jackson off just as he was beginning to speak. Cassie continued to be lost in thought; she'd been thinking more often recently.

Just days earlier, Rain informed her that the thinking was an unstated part of of the grieving process, and the best way for her to let it all out was to talk to someone she truly, deeply, unwaveringly trusts.

Maybe, she would pay George's grave a visit.

Jackson didn't notice the way her lip curled downwards at the thought; he was much more focused on the fact that she actually agreed. "Yeah?" he repeated in disbelief. "You— I, um, you'll talk?"

As Derek's speech came to an uncomfortable end, Cassie nodded in Jackson's direction with an air of undecidedness. She didn't even bother to question what he wanted to talk about, mainly because she didn't particularly care. "Sure, just, uh, later."

"Later," he repeated with a thumbs-up, before shaking his head to himself, wondering why the hell he gave her a thumbs-up. "You got it."

The mood took a wild shift when applause erupted around her, Cassie snorting at the fact that people were actually clapping for Derek, of all people.

She breezed past Jackson without another word and moved towards the newly appointed Chief, who was stuffing his notecards back into the pocket of his suit. Jackson watched her walk away, the words he'd been holding back for weeks sitting just at the tip of his tongue.

"Next time, may I suggest hiring a speech writer?" Cassie smiled in amusement, clapping Derek on the back with a shit-eating grin. "You know, so you can sound less like a corporate asshole."

Derek turned around to face her, batting her hand away from him, his eyes narrowing as he did so. "Was that whole thing really necessary, Cass?"

"One hundred percent, yes."

Letting out what could only be described as a sigh of exasperation, he turned on his heel, actively avoiding the still-prominent stares of his employees as he started up the stairs and down the hallway.

Cassie followed him, admittedly on the verge of laughing in his face as she thought back on his speech. As if he could hear her queuing up a joke, or even some type of witty pun, Derek briefly looked at her with a don't even start glare.

(Cassie held her hands up in innocent defense, despite the fact that she was definitely about to make fun of the color of his tie.)

"Shouldn't you be rounding on your patients ?" Derek grumbled as they made their way across the catwalk, his new office in plain view ahead. "Or, I don't know, doing something else?"

Cassie shook her head. "I was supposed to be on Ethan's service, but he's out sick today." Thank god, she added mentally as an afterthought. Ethan hadn't really spoken to her since his first day, but he had managed to make her uncomfortable on several separate occasions with his gawking (he and Jackson had that in common, she noted). "Which means I'm free to annoy you. Or help you. Whichever you'd prefer."

Regarding her for a few seconds as they entered his office, Derek didn't say a thing, only gesturing for her to shut the door on her way in.

Doing as told with a suspicious glance his way, Cassie felt a bit like she was back in elementary school; getting in trouble and ending up in the principal's office always had been a semi-regular occurrence back then.

In her defense, she was an only child; she needed to get the attention from somewhere, didn't she?

Derek rounded the glass desk, sitting down in Webber's chair and making himself comfortable. Cassie sat across from him, leaning back in her chair as she let out a yawn, her knees spread while her legs took up most of the room in front of her. Derek didn't bat an eye at her terrible posture.

"To be completely honest," he started with his voice lowered, "I could use some help. Do you think you could do me a favor?"

Yes, Cassie immediately thought to herself with zero hesitation. After all, it was Derek. There wasn't a single thing in the world she wouldn't do for him.

"Depends on what it is that you need," she lied, her head tilted slightly to the right in mock inquiry.

Anticipating that response, he pulled out a drawer from beneath him, a stack of files in hand which he promptly slammed on the desk in front of her. She glanced down at them with disinterest, being able to spot an assignment chart from a mile away.

Casually flipping the page, she was met with a list of different surgeries, each of them stamped with different times.

Derek looked at her closely. "I need you to forge my signature on these."

Taken aback, Cassie scoffed in offense. "What makes you think I can do that?"

Of course, she knew she could do that, due to a number of different instances when faking signatures was required; that time in 7th grade she pretended to be sick and needed a family member to sign her out of school, when her mom said no to the field trip to the zoo (she really liked penguins back then), and most notably, when she wrote herself a rather astute letter of recommendation for medical school from Dr. Derek Shepherd, M.D. (he thought writing his sister a recommendation would be a conflict of interest... Cassie didn't quite agree). Of course, she could forge signatures, but how did he know that?

Derek gave her a wry smile. "My old colleague at NYU sent his regards for a spectacular letter of recommendation for his best student. Which I thought was odd, considering I never wrote one."

Cassie blinked at him.

"So, what do I sign?"

He grinned in achievement, pushing the papers closer to her. "Ignore the first two pages, that's just the surgical schedule for today. Uh, I'm supposed to sign or initial everything after it, budget reports, authorizations for new equipment, that sort of thing."

"Wow," Cassie said, completely monotone, "How exciting—"

Suddenly, the door to the Chief's office whipped opened with an unusually loud bang, making Cassie wonder for the briefest of moments if there was a gunman on the loose.

She recognized the man in the doorway as an anesthesiologist from Mercy West (Dr. Ben Warren, his nametag said). He'd been in on a couple of her surgeries, usually found at the head of the operating table reading a medical magazine while his efforts weren't in demand. She knew him as a quiet guy, only speaking a few words when his job required him to. To see him as he was now, out of breath and worry etched on his features, was an uncommon sight. He swallowed harshly, before blurting out, "Chief Shepherd, we need you."

Derek frowned, sharing a confused look with Cassie. "Could wait one minute, I'm in the middle of—"

"Now," Ben emphasized with fervor, "We need you now."

Derek sat in shock, almost like he hadn't anticipated being needed so eagerly only five minutes into his run as Chief. Cassie looked between the two men, before getting to her feet with an air of uncomfortably. Taking the files into her hands, she straightened out her white lab coat, sending the man across from her a firm nod.

"I'll just go deal with... this." As she moved to pass Ben, who was standing in the doorframe, she sent him an awkward smile. "Hi. I'm Cassie." He nodded distractedly, clearly upset about something. "We haven't... officially, you know..." Derek made a shooing motion with his hands. "Okay, bye."

Choosing to ignore the last fifteen seconds of her time in the office, Cassie strode out of the room with a newfound air of importance. She took the job (mind-numbingly boring as it was) as an opportunity to focus on something consequential; more specifically, something that wasn't Mark.

After the scene in her bathroom that morning, she'd admittedly had a relatively hard time thinking about anything else.

Cassie once again started across the catwalk overlooking the main lobby, this time going back the way she came.

With a smile, she noticed Lexie heading towards her, the intern walking with heavy steps and a frown on her face. As she rapidly approached, Cassie waved a hello, which was promptly ignored as Lexie breezed by her without a word.

"Lex?" Cassie called out in confusion, and slight worry that she'd done something wrong. The girl in question flipped around, opening her mouth as if to yell shut up, but stopped short when she saw who was calling her name.

"What?" Lexie responded, aggression clear in her voice, before sighing apologetically only moments later. Stress evident in her tone, Lexie ran a hand through her hair, which Cassie noticed was messier than usual. "Sorry, I just— I really need to talk to Derek— I mean, the Chief— Chief Shepherd— whatever. I need to talk to Derek."

"What's going on?"

An echoing laugh leaving her lips, Lexie sniffled, waving a dismissive hand through the air. It only just occurred to Cassie that she'd been crying. "Oh, nothing," she replied, slightly delirious, her chest heaving as she repressed a sob. "Absolutely nothing is going on, you know, other than the fact that my girlfriend dumped me for some random nurse I've never even freakin' met. No, no, nothing happened, everything is perfectly fucking fine!"

Immediately, Cassie narrowed her eyes into slits, dead serious when she threatened, "You know I'll beat the shit out of her if you want me to, right?"

Violence is never the answer, she offhandedly recalled Derek telling her when she was only a mere six years old, after supposedly hitting a boy who wouldn't stop pulling at her pigtails (Cassie would like to note that there wasn't actually any proof that she hit him; people get tiny fist shaped bruises on their arms all the time).

Of course, she'd never really taken that advice to heart, considering the whole Izzie-Cassie-fist-fight-debacle two years prior. It's not that she condoned violence — she was an anti-war vegetarian, after all — but she did condone the occasional violent action when it was rightfully deserved.

Lexie laughed, a real laugh this time. Sniffling once again and wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she shook her head (Cassie could tell she was fighting the urge to say go, please, punch Rue out of vengeance).

"As much as I'd appreciate that... and honestly, right now, I really would... I should probably fight my own battles. I... it's fine, it'll be fine."

Cassie smiled softly, using her shoulders to make a gesture of your loss. She had always admired the way Lexie failed to stoop as low as the people who'd hurt her; for example, when Meredith rejected her sisterly advances time and time again, Lexie kept on pushing (albeit a bit too enthusiastically) for them to form a bond.

She'd also taken time to admire the positivity of the intern, even while she was, say, on probation from surgery due to an illegal appendectomy.

If she were honest with herself, Cassie would see that Lexie reminded her of George, in a lot of ways.

"That's fair. Just know the offer's on the table."

Already appearing a bit less disstressed, Lexie wiped her tears away for a final time, taking a deep breath to center herself. "Thanks. I-I was just going to ask Derek if I could switch services... so I can avoid her... which sounds really pathetic now that I'm actually saying it out loud—"

"Oh, uh, Derek's busy right now," Cassie said without thinking much of it, interrupting Lexie's soon-to-be self deprecating rambles. Quickly glancing down at the assignment chart in her hands, an idea sprung into her mind. "But, uh, you can switch with Avery? He's on cardio with Altman today. You like cardio, right?"

"If it means I get to avoid Rue?" Lexie raised her brows, "Call me Dr. Yang. But doesn't that need to be approved?"

Cassie waved her off, exuding faux confidence. "I'll let Derek know. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, uh, okay. Cool, thanks." Hesitating for just a brief moment, Lexie reached out, wrapping her arms around the third year resident with gratitude. "You're the best, Cass. I owe you one."

She hugged her back with a grin. "Anytime, Lex."

☆

Believe it or not, Cassie didn't completely hate doing scut. Of course, she would much rather be in surgery at any given point in time, but she'd come to realize that doing nothing was rather relaxing at times, especially when the rest of the world felt like it was moving a mile a minute.

Sitting with one leg tucked beneath her and the other dangling over the edge of the spare gurney she'd occupied in the general surgery wing, Cassie idly flipped through boring hospital form after boring hospital form.

Her hand had begun to cramp due to the repetitive movements of signing Derek's name, prompting her to drop the pen and flex her fingers with a wince. Preoccupied with the dull pain, she failed to notice an obviously pissed off Mark coming her way.

"Have you seen Derek?" he questioned her, his hands on his hips, not even bothering with a proper greeting.

A bit startled, she glanced up at him, subtly resting her arms over the files to hide what they were. Cassie shook her head no dumbly, despite the fact that she had seen him only moments ago with Meredith and Bailey a few rooms over.

"Mm, no, why?"

Mark sighed heavily, and Cassie's attention was momentarily drawn to the cute line between his brows as they furrowed in irritation.

"The new Chief—" (Cassie didn't fail to notice how sarcastic the title sounded) "—switched little Grey, a capable surgeon who's only kind of annoying, off my service, and replaced her with freakin' Avery."

"What's wrong with Avery?"

Somehow, Cassie managed to ask the question with a straight face. From just a single look at her, she could tell that Mark was fully aware of her sarcasm, though he didn't appreciate it much (she knew he wouldn't).

"Other than the fact that I've caught him staring at you like a serial killer multiple times over the past month?"

Cassie smirked. "Yeah, other than that."

Mark rolled his eyes, not finding the topic as humorous as she was. "I don't like him. He's... entitled. And whiny. And he stares at my girlfriend."

"I'm not your girlfriend."

"Tomato, tomahto," he waved her off, hardly even registering what she said as he moved to sit next to her on the gurney. Naturally, his eyes wandered downwards, not giving Cassie enough time to hide the paperwork. Though, that doesn't mean she didn't try. Both hands slapping over the thick pile of paper, Cassie pulled it closely to her chest, her eyes going wide before she attempted to play it off by looking around diligently at her surroundings. Mark just watched her, his eyes narrowed. "What's that?"

"Paper."

A pause.

"What's on the paper?"

Cassie blinked at him. "Words."

Mark stared at her, and Cassie stared back, lips pressed into a flat line. Only seconds later, she moved to bolt out of her seat, but was held back by Mark expertly snatching the files from her tightened grip.

With her exerting most of her bodily strength and him remaining casually seated on the gurney, they each fought for the files as they tugged them back and forth, which Cassie noticed affected her a lot more than it did him.

Attempting to hold on was a lost cause, she soon realized, sneakily glancing at his flexed arms before letting go entirely in defeat. She wiped her brow, the sweat on her forehead reminding her that she really needed to workout more.

Mark flipped through the pages, glancing at Cassie between each and every one. "What the hell is this?"

"They're just hospital documents," Cassie shrugged, a bit nervous (but not really; after all, it was only Mark). He raised a single brow at her, not too fond of the half-truth. "What?"

"I can always tell when you're lying, Cass."

She knew it was true. There hadn't been many times that she'd lied to him in the past; actually, now that she thought about it, she couldn't recall any.

Well, at least not any that mattered in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps that's precisely why Mark had a knack for sussing out her deceptions, because Cassie didn't know how to lie to him. She'd never needed to.

On the rare occurrence that she did, it was only ever about trivial things, such as no Mark, I didn't use your expensive body lotion that makes me smell like a fucking angel, and really Mark, you honestly think I would lie about liking the Ice Age movies when I know they're you're favorite? That's insane.

But even then, even when she swore on her mother's grave that she'd been convincing enough, Mark always saw right through her.

"Derek needed... some help," Cassie conceded, semi-guilty for lying, but mostly just worried Mark would get mad at her being used for grunt work. Really, she didn't mind it. "He's busy today, being the Chief, and all that."

Taking a closer look, Mark scoffed at the pages of Derek's signature in blue pen, which perfectly matched the pen Cassie had been holding (which was now on the floor after being thrown in the midst of the struggle). "Forgery? Seriously?"

"It's really not that big of a d—"

"Let me get this straight," he started slowly, and Cassie almost made a joke about how absolutely nothing about either of them was straight, "Derek is... busy, so he has you committing a federal crime... just to make his day go by easier?"

Well, she hadn't thought about it like that.

"It's not like anyone's gonna know," Cassie said, confident in her forgery skills (and yet entirely missing the point). "Besides, Der's done so much for me. This is literally the least I can do for him." With an uncertain expression, Mark opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to recoil inwards at the thought of actually saying whatever it was out loud. With suspicion, Cassie raised a brow at him. "Mark, if you have something to say, then say it."

He didn't want to say it.

It was something that had been in the back of his mind for years; ever since he met her, really. But recently, over the past few years they'd been working together, he began to notice it more often (he ignored it more often, too).

Because he knew if he said it, or anything even remotely hinting towards it, Cassie wouldn't agree; she'd be offended, if anything. And the last thing any man wanted to do was offend his girlfriend.

But, just like she said moments before, she wasn't his girlfriend anymore, so—

"Don't you think Derek's kinda... you know... taking advantage of you?" Feeling a need to soften the blow, he added meekly, "Sort of?"

What the hell was he talking about? Cassie's brows caved inwards at the seemingly random statement, a confused and slightly uncomfortable smile taking over her lips. Glancing down to the files that were still in Mark's possession, she shook her head, subconsciously not letting herself truly internalize the question.

"No, he's not," she moved her gaze to meet his own, and he could see the potential fire blazing behind her irises. "Why would you say that?"

For a beat, Mark wondered the same thing. Why the hell did he say that out loud? Attempting to backtrack, despite the fact that he stood by his original statement, he gestured towards the dozens of forgeries in his hands.

"I just... and correct me if I'm wrong—" (he knew he wasn't wrong) "—I just kinda feel like he's... manipulating your kindness, a little bit." Cassie didn't seem all that convinced. "I-I mean, Cass, you're a third year resident spending your day copying signatures when you could be in surgery. It just seems... weird."

Cassie shook her head, fully oblivious to the deeper meaning behind his words. "It's just a favor," she assured him, reaching out and taking back the files. She flipped to the last page, signed Derek's full name twice, and looked back up to Mark with a grin. "Besides, I just finished. See? Still time for surgery."

Irritated that she wasn't really getting what he meant, but also relieved that she wasn't cursing his name for the whole hospital to hear, he decided to let it go. Maybe she was right, after all; at the end of the day, it was just a favor. Getting to his feet, Mark sent her a tempting grin.

"Okay then, how do you feel about keeping me company during my brachioplasty this afternoon?" Just as Cassie went to object, he cut her off. "Please don't make me be alone with that intern, Cass."

She scrunched her nose up at him. "Jackson is in the same year as me. And also, no."

With a scoff, he rolled his eyes, sticking out his hand for Cassie to help herself up with. He sent her a pleading look, and Cassie caved instantly when she saw the way his lips twitched downwards, resembling a puppy, in a way. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were in the business of doing favors."

"Yeah," Cassie laughed sarcastically, eventually taking his hand despite her instincts telling her not to. "Derek's the manipulative one."

☆

Cassie could actually feel the tension in the room.

The OR was relatively empty, just as it usually was during these types of basic plastics operations. Looking around the room, Cassie supposed there wouldn't exactly be people lining up at the door to see her boyf — to see Mark —  suck fat from a woman's arms. The right sleeve of his surgical gown gently brushed against her, the movement nearly making her forget the pair of green eyes attempting to make contact with her own.

Jackson stood across the table, once again, staring (at this point, Cassie thought the creepiness might actually be intentional).

Mark was staring, too, not that she was aware; Jackson, on the other hand, was wildly uncomfortable as the crystal blue eyes of the attending bore into his skin. He was trying to ignore the staring, much like Cassie was his, but still, he felt rather unsettled.

"Avery."

Mark's sharp voice cut through the silence of the OR, through the numb sound of the suction tube removing the woman's fat and placing it into a medical waste bin, and cut right through the resident's ears.

Cassie perked up as well, not sure what he was going to say, but still dreading it nonetheless. She looked up to her left, the razor blades in Mark's pupils even visible from the strange angle.

"Yes?" Jackson responded, a bit caught off guard.

"Yes, Sir."

Cassie let out an auditory sigh of anguish. Fuck, she thought rottenly. Please, for the love of god, leave me out of it.

Jackson paused his limited movements, and even through his mask, Cassie could tell his mouth was bobbing open and closed like a fish. She noticed something change in his demeanor slightly; it almost looked like... challenge?

"Sorry," he replied, entirely insincere. "Yes, Sir?"

Mark, already feeling like he won — Cassie, nor Jackson, even knew what they were playing — tilted his head with faux inquiry. "Am I boring you, Avery?"

"W-What?"

"I asked if I was boring you," Mark repeated, his tone deadly serious despite the smirk on his lips. "Dr. Harper may be the prettiest doctor in the hospital, but you're supposed to be focused on my surgery, not the way her eyes sparkle under the fluorescents."

God, Cassie cringed, shoot me now.

The two residents may not have known the game, but Mark sure seemed to be a motherfucking expert.

Jackson, much like Cassie, was entirely speechless after the comment. A few moments passed, the beeping of the patient's heart monitor only adding to the delicate environment. Eventually, once Cassie could bear to open her eyes, she looked up at Jackson, expecting to see embarrassment or queasiness or something of a similar nature. But instead, all she found was... was that... disgust?

Subconsciously, she frowned towards him, knowing that she was way too hot to warrant that type of reaction.

Maybe he was gay or something, but even then, it didn't add up. Seriously, she was far from modest; ever since she'd gained back her healthy weight, she knew that she looked really, really good.

And Cassie wasn't the only one to notice how Jackson's face scrunched up as if he'd been kicked in the balls; in an instant, Mark's smirk dropped from his face, his hold on the suctioning tube only getting stronger (Cassie felt bad for the dozen nurses and technicians who were forced to watch it all unfold).

Cassie cleared her throat, drawing the men's attention. "So," she started, her voice a couple notches louder than it needed to be. "Uh, Dr. Sloan, I thought Lennon was also on your service today?"

Mark didn't want to change the subject so soon, but he humored her anyway. "She was, but then she burst into tears in the middle of rounds, so I sent her home."

Poor Rue, she thought, before remembering that she broke up with Lexie, not the other way around.

Of course, Cassie broke up with Mark, so being mad at the intern would make her a total hypocrite, but... c'mon, it was Lexie. Sunshine, big smile, insanely intelligent, wouldn't-hurt-a-fly Lexie Grey.

Honestly, Cassie couldn't fathom leaving a beautiful girl who was that special for some random nurse (her name was Sophie, according to the hospital's rumor mill). So, for the time being, she figured she had the right to hold a grudge.

"Oh, that's—"

"So Avery," Mark started once again, not particularly interested in speaking about an intern he didn't care much about. Cassie let a prolonged sigh. "How do you usually treat the women you're interested in?"

The entire OR paused at the odd — and weirdly invasive — question. Jackson in particular froze in place, glancing at Cassie for the briefest of moments before looking back to the attending. "I-I'm sorry?"

"I mean, is it always staring, or do you follow them home, too?" Mark continued, the sarcasm clear in his voice. "Who knows? Some women like the guys who have the whole stalker-thing going on. Oh, or men, if that's what you're into. I don't judge."

Cassie felt a sudden urge to punch Mark in the face, but much to her dismay, her hands were full with surgical equipment. Though, she could always hit him with that, she supposed.

Jackson clearly wanted to be anywhere else at the current moment, and Cassie didn't exactly blame him. "I... I don't... I'm sorry?"

Mark narrowed his eyes, never being a fan of men who made Cassie feel unsafe. In the past, any time he'd caught someone gawking at her, or whistling as she walked by, or really, doing pretty much anything that gross men do when they see an attractive woman, he made sure to make it known that not only was she beautiful, but she was also his. Well... not his his, but she was with him; she chose to be with him, and he protected her from... wait, he didn't mean that Cassie needed protecting, it was just... actually, if anyone was the protector in the relationship, it was probably her, but... (in the midst of his train of thought, he realized that he should probably reread all those feminism books Cassie had gotten for him a few years back; crap, was he a bad feminist?).

Ignoring his internal monologue, Mark shrugged, faux aloof. "I'm just saying, you seem to be pretty into Dr. Harper here. Obviously, I don't blame you, it's just..." Cassie craned her head towards him with a glare, her anxiety rising with all the nosey and vaguely concerned eyes on her. "Well, your methods of showing your interest are a little odd, don't you think?"

Mark Sloan had always been a jealous man, and Cassie was perfectly aware of that fact, but she'd never seen him like this. And if she were being completely honest, she was really fucking pissed about it.

"Stop," she barked with ferociousness, before Jackson could even think to formulate a response. "Dr. Sloan—"

"I am not interested in Cassie," Jackson quickly spit out, seeming more sure of that statement than anything he'd said all day. The girl in question tried not to be offended.

"Yeah, and Derek doesn't have great hair," Mark mumbled under his breath, scoffing at the look on the younger man's face as he raised his voice back to it's original level. "No need to be shy, Avery. We're all adults here. Granted, I think, no, I know, Cassie isn't available, especially not for someone like you—"

"Mark!" Cassie snapped loudly at him, catching the entire OR off guard.

She decided to channel the spirit of her mother; more specifically, the spirit of her mother during the period of time when a teenage Cassie decided to act out as a desperate cry for attention. It never lasted long, considering just how angry Bonnie was at her daughter (and just how scary she could be when she wanted to).

Now, as the steam practically came bursting from Cassie's ears, all Mark could see was Bonnie Harper written across her forehead; that alone was reason enough to back down.

Jackson looked between them, the thick tension in the air pulling at his skin. "Dr. Sloan, I-I don't know if I've offended you, or something, but I promise — I promise — I do not have feelings for your girlfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend," Cassie corrected sharply, not taking her eyes off Mark as she did so. He just stared back at her. "And, I can fight my own battles. I don't need some knight in shining armor to do it for me."

"That— but that's what I'm saying," Jackson rushed out. "There's no battle. Like, seriously, absolutely, not at all, zero battle here—"

"I was just trying to..." Mark cut him off, clearly not listening to whatever it was he was saying in the first place.

Pausing in the middle of his sentence, both residents could tell he was biting back the words protect you. Cassie rolled her eyes, knowing perfectly well that he didn't necessarily mean to cause problems, but he was doing himself (and her) more harm than good.

"I don't care," she eventually sighed, having been done with the conversation since it started. "It's fine. We're fine. Now shut up," she paused briefly, turning back to face Jackson. "Both of you."

And they listened, each of them feeling oddly like they were being scolded by their mother for sticking their hand in the cookie jar.

Throughout the rest of the excruciatingly silent surgery, Cassie found herself idly thinking about what drink she would be having later that night. She was leaning towards straight vodka, but an entire bottle of tequila in one sitting was always a classic choice. Meanwhile, in the back of her mind, the universe was laughing as if it were one too many shots deep at a New York comedy club.

☆

Purposely waiting until Mark had exited the scrub room before she entered, Cassie walked through the door, taking a place to the right of Jackson as she began to wash her hands.

He wasn't looking at her, and she wasn't looking at him, but they could both feel the other's urge to say something (they were a lot alike in that way; always searching for a way to fill the silence). Cassie took in a deep breath to prepare, but just as she moved to speak, he began to talk over her.

"Sorry about Mark—"

"I wasn't stalking you."

Oh?

Despite the strangeness she felt around him, and despite the way Mark made him out to be kind of insane, Cassie never actually thought Jackson was a stalker.

A weird dude who had a staring problem, maybe, but she'd read far too many true crime books to know the warning signs of a potential stalker, and he was far from making the cut.

Mark, on the other hand, used the term rather loosely; she knew that in his eyes, any man who had their attention on Cassie for longer than a few seconds (other than him) was a certified psychopath.

"I know," she said simply, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips due to the bizarre topic of discussion. "I was just gonna say sorry, about that whole thing. He's not usually like that."

Jackson furrowed his brows. "Somehow, when it comes to you, I find that hard to believe."

After a few seconds of silence, just as Cassie finished washing her hands, she turned to face him, resting against the edge of the sink. "Is that..." she started hesitantly. "Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? That you're, like, into me?"

His eyes widened drastically at the implication, leading Cassie to believe that the answer was yes.

"No—"

"No offense or anything, but I'm really, really not interested," she emphasized strongly, not quite sure why she felt so repulsed by the thought. It's not like Jackson was ugly, or a total douchbag, or anything that would normally make her say absolutely the fuck not. It was just... something else, that made a shiver run down her back at the unappealing thought. "I totally get why you like me, but it's not gonna happen. Ever. Sorry."

Jackson looked as if he were about to projectile vomit across the scrub room. "Trust me, that's not— I definitely don't want it to happen. That... that would be revolting."

Taken aback, Cassie narrowed her eyes. "You think I'm revolting?"

"Well, I didn't mean you, so much as... it's not... you are not revolting, it's just the idea of you and... I-I mean, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about—"

"You wanted to talk to me about how revolting I am?"

At this time, Jackson decided to give up.

"No, I... wanted to talk to you..." he started, the words on verge of spilling out of his mouth like blood spills from the lips of someone who's been stabbed in the gut, "I wanted to talk to you about your fa— your car."

Cassie scrunched her face in confusion. "My car?"

With a wince, he nodded distractedly, wiping his now clean hands with a towel and throwing it in the dirty bin. Cassie was too far away to notice how they were shaking. "Yeah, I saw you pull into the parking lot on the first day, and I-I've been needing to... get a new one... uh, what model is it?"

"Uh, it's... a Ford Explorer."

Jackson just nodded, not making eye contact.

"Oh. Cool."

Cassie could tell something was off just by looking at him; what, she had not a single clue. Either way, he was very obviously a bad liar.

She knew, because she was a relatively (okay, fine, extraordinarily) bad one herself.

Her mother used to tut and shake her head each time she tried to lie growing up, placing both hands on her shoulders and saying Munchkin, I don't even know why you bother trying to hide things from me, you're no good at it. Honestly, I thought my astute acting skills would've rubbed off on you by now.

"Hey, are you sure that's all you wanted to talk about? It seemed sorta, I don't know... it seemed serious this morning."

Against his better judgment, Jackson nodded. "Y-Yeah, that's all."

He left the room, his feet dragging behind him each step he took. As the door swung closed, it opened once again, Lexie waltzing in with more energy than the unusually somber room could retain.

Cassie perked up, ready to ask the intern how her day on cardio went, when Lexie beat her to the punch.

"I want to get drunk," she blurted, hands on her hips.

"Same," Cassie deadpanned. "Does your desire to drink have anything to do with your ex-girlfriend breaking your heart this morning?"

Lexie nodded curtly. "Yep. Does your desire to drink have anything to do with the fact that I just saw Dr. Sloan shoulder-check Avery without apologizing?"

With a sigh, Cassie pushed off from the sink, gesturing for Lexie to follow her lead out the door. "Joe's Bar it is, then."

author's note —
ahahaha heyyyy ahaha
how y'all doin..............

i know it's been a while (is four
months a while? yeah, i think it
is) that i haven't updated, mainly
due to writer's block and big life
changes (aka i moved across the
country) but i want to thank you
guys for sticking around! also,
for future reference, asking me
when i'm going to update only
makes me not want to update,
and it gets really old really fast,
so maybe don't do that anymore
<3 k love you see you next time