"She's scaring me."

It's all Cristina says, but the rest of the residents know exactly who she's talking about, and nod emphatically. Izzie leans forward, knocking her salad over slightly, and says thoughtfully, "I don't remember her being this bad when McDreamy was actually with McHot." George nods beside her as he tries to clean up the salad mess, which is starting to fall onto Izzie's scrubs. Alex ignores them both.

"Mer? Hey . . . you okay?" Izzie's voice brings Meredith out of her reverie and she fixes the blonde with glazed eyes. "What? What did I miss?"

"Okay. That's enough, Meredith; this is just getting stupid. He's not even dating anyone else! You're still sleeping with him every night!" Cristina's voice is matter-of-fact with a hint of annoyance in it, and Meredith sighs. She knows it's getting annoying. She knows. What she also knows, and hates, is the fact that every single resident sitting at this table has been living at her house for the last month and she can't fucking have a personal life anymore.

"I need to . . . do something. Something besides look at all of your faces everyday. I need to talk to him," she says, standing up suddenly. A minute later, after watching Derek walk by on the arm of Sydney Heron, she sits down. "I can't do this. Who am I to tell him he can't see other people? We broke up. We're finished. Not a couple. Not anymore."

"Uh, Mer? Sleeping with the guy doesn't exactly give everyone the impression that you're "finished". If you're gonna be finished, then be finished. Don't let him come over anymore. Don't let him pull you into an on-call room. You've only got to blame yourself. You can be stronger." Cristina is certain. She was able to get over Burke; she doesn't realize why other people have to waffle around on relationship issues. Of course, everyone knows that she isn't really over him, but no one would dare to mention it. Do you want to be slit open with a ten-blade?

Meredith sighs, plays with a French fry. "I'm so tired of all of this," she murmurs, and Cristina's hand snakes across the table. "Then do something about it. You're the only one with the power, here."

If that's true, then why does she feel so powerless?

"So, I saw her kissing him in the locker room this morning and I just about lost that expensive room service breakfast I ordered this morning. Why is it that everyone else can effectively disconnect from their ex, but I have to see mine every single day?" Callie is leaning up against her exam room table, arms crossed, sulk on her face. Mark Sloane rolls his eyes.

"You know what I don't get? Why the people in this hospital feel the need to speak to me about their issues. God, this place is one huge drama mill. I get so tired of it. If I wanted to live in Melrose Place, I would move to L.A."

Callie's eyes widen. "What was that last part?"

"God, now people don't even listen anymore. What am I, invisible?"

"Shut up. L.A.?"

"What about L.A.?" Mark stops and realization dawns on his face. "Oh, Callie. When was the last time you talked to her?"

"She's never called since she's been up there." Callie's face is crossed with pain and if possible, she looks even more hurt than before. "I mean, I listened to her through every single issue she ever had with you . . ."

"Thanks . . ."

"Seriously. You treated her like shit and I was there. Now, I need her and she hasn't called." Callie pouts and Mark suddenly wants to put his arms around her. "Have you called her?"

"No."

"Well, then why did you expect her to call you?"

"I don't know. Shut up. I'm going through a hard time." She fiddles with her necklace and Mark gives her the McSteamy smile. "I thought I was helping with that . . ."

"Newsflash, Mark: sex is not always therapeutic. Even if it is good." The last is said in a whisper and Mark grins again. Before he can say anything else, though, Meredith bursts in. "Have you seen Derek?"

Callie looks annoyed. "Why would I have anything to do with your McDreamy?" Meredith ignores her and shoots a desperate look at Mark. "God, Grey. Why would I care where Derek is? You're a mess . . . you need to, I don't know, go to the spa or whatever women do to relax. Maybe hit the tequila."

"Oooh, no more tequila," Meredith shudders. "And what would you know about what women do to relax?"

Mark grins. "More than you would know . . ." Callie smacks him. "Rein in the horniness, bud."

"So, we were discussing Callie's problem with your good friends Izzie and George," says Mark.

"Yeah. God, Callie. I don't even know what to say about that."

"Well, I think if you want to talk to Addison, you should call her," says Mark, turning his gaze back to Callie. "I guess so."

"Well, do it, I haven't got all day." He leans back against the exam table and Callie gives him an odd look. "You're awfully interested in this. Are you sure you're not a girl at heart?"

He smacks her arm playfully and she grimaces back at him. Meredith feels like she's going to be sick. "I'm going to go."

"Actually, Grey, I need you. I've got a crash victim coming in, and I could use your stitching skills," says Mark. "So don't move."

Meredith sighs and leans against the table with the other doctors. Callie dials the number that Addison gave her just before she left. "If you need me, just call, it's my BlackBerry," she had said. Callie hasn't used it because she's been so angry at Addie for taking off and leaving her to deal with it all.

Addison picks up on the third ring. "Callie? Jesus Christ, it's been forever!"

"Well, it's been approximately two months. And you haven't called once," Callie's voice is a little trembly, so she attempts to control it. Addison's voice is light, but flat. "I could say the same about you. How are things?"

"Awful," says Callie, her lips suddenly falling into a pout, tears streaking her face. Mark squeezes her shoulder. "I need you."

"Then why don't you come down? Do you have some vacation saved up?"

"Yeah . . . I can take a week or so. I'll talk to Richard. He knows what's going on. I don't want to get into it here, but . . . I think my marriage is over."

"Oh, Cal." Addison's voice is so sympathetic that Callie sniffles back sobs. Meredith looks distinctly uncomfortable. "Can't I come back?" she mouths to Mark, who gives her a look. "Shut up, Grey."

"I've got plenty of room in my place," Addison is saying. "But I've actually got a patient now, so I've got to run. Let me know when you're going to fly in and I'll pick you up at the airport."

"Addie? I miss you."

"I miss you too. See you soon."

As Callie stuffs her phone into her pocket, Mark opens the door for the patient on the gurney and the three get to work. As Meredith stitches, she tries to push down the feelings of envy. Callie can just leave. She can find someone not connected to the situation at all, someone who will let her cry without making her feel stupid about it. Okay, fine, this is a completely different situation. But still.

Mark notices Meredith's hands shaking a little. "If you don't want to leave this man train-tracked like a fucking railroad yard, I suggest you get ahold of yourself," he hisses, and Meredith straightens her spine and focuses on her work.

Callie's got her ticket to L.A. in her hand, and she's got a frission of excitement in her belly, and a slight finger of nervousness pushing against her heart. The last is because she's not the only one who has a ticket to L.A. Mark Sloane has one, too.

She'd tried to dissuade him from coming. "For one, Addison doesn't want to see you. For two, I need some time with Addison alone, some girl time. I don't need you flashing that smile around the corner at me all the time. For three, you can't stay at her place. She'd never allow it. You're just messing everything up."

"Who says I'm going to see Addison? Maybe I'm going to get away with you," he whispered, leaning over her so that she can smell his cologne. Their lips locked briefly for a second, and then she pulled away. "No, I seriously mean it. You need to just fuck off. I need this time alone."

"Well, that's too bad, because I already have a ticket," he grinned, snapping it up between his fingers. "And like it or not, I am going to wine and dine you on the beach while the moon shines." He coughed a little. "God, that was rough just coming out of my mouth."

Callie laughed. "You really are the most annoying asshole I've ever met."

"Well, that's too bad, because I think you're one of the hottest chicks I've ever met," he whispered, and they found an on-call room to take some time out for awhile. Sex at work? Can be the best you've ever had. Callie knows this, despite the fact that she is technically still married to George.

Now, Callie's instructing the other ortho residents about techniques for a certain knee replacement surgery that they've all recently learned to do. She wants to make sure that she leaves the wing knowing that things are under control. The rest of the residents have their orders and she's comfortable leaving, knowing that Bailey will make a great acting Chief Resident.

Meredith Grey is slumping by, her gait always a little awkward, when Mark stops Callie outside of the cafeteria. "So, what time tonight?"

"The flight goes at seven, and I'm wanting to get there about an hour earlier. Are we going to drive down together?"

Meredith perks her ears up. "Are you going to L.A., Callie?"

Callie turns around and looks surprised, and then remembers that Meredith was there when she called Addison. "Yeah. Should be a good time."

Mark leans across Callie to talk to Meredith. "Maybe you should get away, too, Grey. Go down to talk to Addie about Derek. After all, she's got the experience, too," he laughs, and Callie smacks him. "God, you really love to fuck with the residents, don't you? Sorry, Meredith," she apologizes, and Mer waves her hand.

"Addison's more than just a lady doctor. She's got a lot of experience dealing with men," Mark continues. "Plus, you're looking peaky. A nice tan would do wonders."

"Why are you so interested in me coming? If this is about you getting lucky with the broken resident on some golden sand . . ."

"Relax, Grey, he's with me," Callie smiles. She does consider Meredith, though. "You are pale. And McDreamy could do with you being unavailable. Might make him think. You should come," she decides. "We're leaving tonight at seven."

Meredith is reeling – why would Callie and Mark ask her to come? "Uh, why are you asking me to come? We barely know each other."

"Well, for one," drawls Mark, "I'm getting tired of Derek bitching about you and how you're being elusive, and I'm getting tired of seeing you slump around the halls. I think we all need a little sunshine."

"Yeah," says Callie, smiling. "We do all need a little sunshine!"

Meredith throws up her hands. "Whatever. Fine. I'll meet you at the airport before seven."

Meredith's never traveled first-class. That's partly because she could never afford it, but when she found out that Mark and Callie were traveling first-class, she felt like sitting in coach would just underline the fact that she's younger than both of them and more pathetic, too. So she shelled out the extra dollars, because, hell, why not?

Meredith knows she's not supposed to be on this flight. She left a note for Richard and now she's heartily regretting it. He'll cut her the slack, but she'll be on probation, and she might lose her interns, too. But – have you ever been so desperate that you don't care what the hell you do, as long as you do something? That's where Meredith is. And now she's sitting on a plane to L.A., drinking champagne, and listening to Callie laugh about something that one of her ortho interns did the other day. Mark, like the proverbial metrosexual boy, has a satin mask on over his eyes and is thankfully, asleep.

"So, yeah, interns suck. As I'm sure you know." Callie pauses and takes a sip of her drink. "You didn't have to come if you really didn't want to, you know." Her voice is soft and Meredith looks up.

"Why not. I'm so tired of seeing him with other women. He's trying to scare me back with him and I'm just sick of it." Meredith's eyes well with tears, which Callie doesn't miss. She puts an arm around her. "Sometimes I hate Seattle Grace."

"Sometimes I just hate Seattle."

"Yeah."

They're tired, but that's more because they've all worked a full day and it's seriously not fair that L.A. is so beautiful and bright with sparkling lights. As they make their descent, Mark discreetly gets sick in a vomit bag, which makes both Meredith and Callie laugh their heads off. He finishes and glares at them. "Shut up. So I get a little motion sick and I wanted to drink. The two don't mix. It could happen to anyone."

"No, it only happens to you, as far as I know," says Callie, her eyes wide and innocent. He smacks her shoulder and they all laugh.

Addison is waiting for Callie down in the airport lounge. When they've fetched their bags, they look towards the gate and see a tall, red-haired woman in tan linen pants and a black printed tank top standing against a pole, typing idly into a BlackBerry. Immediately, a message flashes up on Callie's phone: "U here yet?"

Callie messages back: "Look up."

Addison does, and her jaw drops.

Let the games begin.