Summary: Meredith seems to have acquired a new habit, and George isn't sure how he feels about it yet.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Note: I was inspired by last weeks episode and wrote my very first grey's anatomy fanfic. It's George/Meredith because yeah, I don't really know. This was just something I had to get out of my system. Anyway, feedback is the greatest thing ever and if anyone has anything constructive to say, I love that too. Oneshot.


1. "Psst, George. Are you awake?"

He groans and reluctantly turns over to face the sound interrupting his dreamless sleep. A line of yellow light is seeping through the slightly open door and getting in his eyes.

"I am now." There's a pause.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

George almost doesn't hear the request, very nearly chokes on nothing at the words, but manages to stutter a "Sure," that's just a bit to high.

She breathes something that might be "Thanks," but it's lost in her footsteps as she comes over to the bed. If he squints, he can make out her silhouette as she slips under the blanks and the mattress dips with her weight.

George feels her next to him, tossing and stealing some of his blanket trying to get comfortable. He purposely leaves a few inches between them.

"George?" Her voice is sleepy and right in his ear.



"'Night," he sighs.

"George...?" Her voice is even softer.

"Yeah, Meredith?"

"'m sorry." And he knows she is so, he finds her hand beneath the covers and holds it in his, circling his thumb awkwardly against her wrist in what he can only hope is a reassuring way.

"No problem."


2. "Is there something wrong with me?"

She can't always fall asleep right away, so they talk. Most of the time he can keep it light, telling jokes about whatever weird patients they've had that day. He knows she rolls her eyes even in the dark. Sometimes though, she gets like this and he can feel the dampness of tears on her cheeks like condensation.

And he really wonders how she can possibly think anything is wrong with her just because some guy couldn't see how great she really is. Couldn't see how smart and beautiful she is. Passed up her sense of humor and perfect flaws.

But George doesn't say any of this because well, he's afraid. Really a coward when it comes to her, so he just whispers the same thing he did while taking her blood the night of the train wreck.

"Someone would have to be crazy not to choose you."


3. George remembers watching some special on the discovery channel a few weeks ago. It was about medieval torture devices on at 2 in the morning. He wasn't waiting up to make sure Meredith came home safe from her date or anything, he's always been fascinated by European history. Seriously.

He thought the iron masks and thumb screws looked painful, but this somehow feels a million times worse. Like the same torture of having his heart pulled in all directions because Meredith is warm and asleep beside him and this is the tenth night in a row they've been like this.

And he's in love with her. That part kinda sucks too.


4. On night #17, the curiosity finally gets to him and he has to know why she comes to him. Why of all places she picks him and his fleecy covers to chase away whatever demons come to find her at night.

She stopped asking permission to climb aboard a few nights ago, and with a deep breath after she settles in, he asks.

The question is greeted by silence and he's honestly surprised she has to think about the answer.

"You're safe, George."

Safe. He's not sure what that's suppose to mean, but he tentatively wraps an arm around her shoulders anyway.


5. Izzie tells him he needs to grow some balls the morning after night #23.

"You've had her in your bed for how many nights now, and you still haven't told her how you feel?" She shakes her head like she can't even bring herself to look at him. "That's sad, George."

"Yeah well, Meredith is on the rebound and I'm not going to be a jerk and take advantage of her. Besides, she doesn't even like me that way and hey, how did you know she's been sleeping with me?"

"Oh come off it," her toast is pointed accusingly in his face from across the kicthen table, "You're too chicken to make a move and you know it."

"Make a move on who?"

George whirls around on his chair so fast, he nearly tips it over. Meredith is standing behind him with mussed hair and a curious smile. Turning back around, the look he gives Izzie must be pretty pathetic because all she does is roll her eyes and leaves to go back upstairs.


6. He thinks he's out of the woods at work. He's done his rounds and is certain he's avoided a game of 21 questions about who exactly he wants to put the moves on, when Meredith catches him off guard in their make-shift break room.

"So, George. Who's this mystery girl?" And really, doesn't Meredith have her own problems to deal with right now without prying him for details about a non-existent love life?

"Uhh." He glances around, but there's nothing and no one to save him.

"Come on, you can tell me."

And he could confess. He can't imagine what it would be like to just tell the truth, but the last thing he wants is to jeopardize this friendship. Proclamations of love always seem to be catastrophic disasters. He can't lose her.

"At least tell me, do I know her?"

You are her. George hates lying, but believes in the greater good.



7. It hits him while he's scrubbing in on an emergency appendix removal, which is actually really inconvenient when you think about it.

He sleeps with Meredith. George O'Malley sleeps with Meredith Grey. Ok, so not sleep and in sex, but still.

And there's just something incredibly weird and surreal about that fact.

"O'Malley," a voice cuts into his thoughts, "Don't want to trouble you, but care to join the rest of us here in reality and help perform a surgery?"

As he looks everywhere but Dr. Burke and his glaring eyes, George thinks back to iron cages with spikes and old England and wonders what it would have been like to be born in a different century.


8. George has never been especially good at writing poetry, is terrible at writing anything period. He's jotting down his latest try at being romantic when Cristina waltzes in the break room., informing him abouther day and flopping down beside him. Just when he thinks he's managed to nonchalantly dispose of the paper, she grabs it from his hand.

"What's this?"


"Roses are red

Violets are blue

So are your eyes

Meredith, I love you?"

And there's an eerie calm while she just stares at the pen-stained paper with disbelieving eyes. Then there's laughter, loud obnoxious laughter and Cristina's standing up with tears in her eyes. She steadies herself enough to force out "wow" and "nice, Casanova" in between fits. She's hardly able to walk as she goes through the door.

So it lacks creativity, rhythm and he can't rhyme to save his life. George wants to know when he claimed to be any kind of Shakespeare.


9. When George's alarm goes off, he's awake and aware something's different. It's not that Meredith's beside him, he's used to that. Waking up with no covers but still too warm.


It's different because this morning, both his arms are tight around her waist and their legs are impossibly tangled together. Her head is resting on his chest and they've never been like this before and it's suddenly too much. He gets up from the bed quietly as he can but she's awake too, asking what's wrong.

His laugh is just a little hysterical.

"I can't do this anymore, Meredith!"25 days of frustration and need exploding all at once, "I love you. Having you this close- it's just- I can't take it anymore."

He leaves her stunned and sitting up in bed as he escapes to the bathroom. He doesn't cry in the shower where no one can hear him. Really, he doesn't.


10. Izzie and Cristina find him brooding outside the hospital on a bench. They sit down next to him, one of them on either side.

"Meredith hates me." And she must because, every time he's seen her in the halls, she walks the other way. He can't believe he was so stupid.

"Yeah, you were pretty stupid."

"Gee thanks, Iz," George says with all the sarcasm he has, "You sure know how make a guy feel better."

"You didn't give her that poem, did you?" Izzie reaches over George to hit Cristina upside the head for the remark, but ends up whacking him too.

"What? I wouldn't be able to talk to him either!"

"Have you guys ever thought of starting up a suicide hotline? You both have this amazing gift-"

"Oh, George," sighs Izzie, lowering her head to rest on his shoulder, holding his hand while Cristina mirrors the same on his left.

And as the three of them sit there, he knows he's lucky he hasn't done something stupid to lose them too.


11. George tries not to be surprised when he sleeps alone that night. Or the night after that.


12. He nearly jumps right off the bed at the loud crash through his window. He hears an "oops" coming from outside the curtains and picks up the rock that was hurtled through the glass. Careful not to touch any sharp edges, he gingerly leans out the window.

"Meredith?" He's just a little shocked.


"What are you doing outside? Why are you throwing rocks? Do you hate me that much?"

She places her hands on her hips, "No, George. This is my pathetic attempt at a grand romantic gesture."

"You're trying to woo me by assaulting me with rocks?" He does his best to ignore the way his heart twisting.

"Well I tried pebbles, but you didn't wake up."

"Oh." Obviously then.


13. There's only half a moon outside, so it's dark enough to see most of the stars. On their backs, laying in the grass, George can hardly believe this is happening. Barely any space between them, Meredith is next to him and laughing.

"You don't know a single constellation?"

"Nope. Not even where the big dipper is."

"You've got to be kidding me. Here," she grabs his hand and lifts it up to help him trace the shape made up of tiny lights, "See? Like this." Her hand moves his through the air.

"Yeah, I do." When he lowers his hand back to earth, she doesn't let go.



"I'm still in love with Derek, and I need some time, but this thing we have? I need it too." He props himself on his elbow because he has to see her face. She whispers, "Will you wait for me?"

"Yes," with a voice as low as hers, "Would you be mad if I kissed you right now?"


So he does.