Yeah...don't exactly know what I'm doing starting another fic. Don't ask me. I just really like what I have so far with this one. So...I don't own Grey's Anatomy. This is set at the end of "Who's Zoomin' Who?" Uhmm...what else...yeah. I think that's it. Please review! More reviews mean I update faster! What can I say, I'm a review whore.

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Prologue

Colorblind

"Long day," he said as she walked up, his tiredness too intense to really form any more words than those said.

"Yeah," she said in agreement, her happiness to see him alone, (almost) outside of work beaming off of her face in the form of a small smirk.

"Somewhere out there is a steak with your name on it," he continued, a smirk of his own playing across his handsome features, "And maybe a bottle of wine."

"This is why I keep you around," she teased, as though everytime she saw him, a small flurry of breathlessness didn't erupt in the pit of her stomach.

"So we need to talk," he said heavily as he finished packing up his things.

"Wine first, talk later."

"Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?" he said, mock concern and shock raising in his voice.

She giggled, the warm noise making him feel heady and as though everything around him was swimming, except for her.

"I think I like this rules thing," she said, and the agreement in his happy smile could not have been more profound if he had shouted it from the rooftops.

Suddenly, she felt the blood freeze in her veins and the breath clutch in her throat as she saw the head full of red hair cross the lobby, attached to the tall, well-dressed body.

"Oh my god," she breathed, her voice a hoarse whisper, "Simon. What are you doing here?"

"Well," he said, as his leather loafer-laiden feet came to a halt in front of them, his blue eyes glowing with mischief, "If you had bothered to answer any one of my phone calls, you might know," he finished, casting a suspicious and trouble-making glance towards Derek. "And you are?"

Derek, indignant, titled his chin upwards in a gesture of superiority, "Derek Shepherd. Head of Neurosurgery. Can I help you?"

"Ahhh," Simon said, a devilish smirk crossing his handsome features, "Then you must be the hot shot that's been screwing my wife."

Looking between them, her past and her present, her pain and her happiness, she felt the earth give out beneath her.