![[I saw three ships]](../2005-1icon.png)
It only happened on rainy nights. No, seriously, only on really really rainy nights, like the kind that soaked him to the bone as George ran from the front door of the hospital to the car. The kind of night where the lightening split the sky into huge purple chunks over Seattle and the imaginary pieces fell unseen. He'd wake up at the flash of purple against his eyelids, his body heavy and weighed down by sleep. Tiny cold hands burrowed in under his stomach. He'd grunt. Slim legs would nestle against his. Just when the chill that Meredith brought with her settled into cozy warmth, then came Izzie with her cold feet and her chatter and her stuffed bunny rabbit.
George didn't have a lot of lines left, but he drew it right before the point where he let stuffed bunny rabbits into his bed. The bunny slept on his floor.
Izzie cuddled and arched one leg over George, like he was some kind of human body pillow. He'd slap her knee away from his penis and mutter that some people in this bed had penises and they'd like to use them again someday. Izzie snored in reply.
Only on rainy nights.
"There's going to be a thunderstorm tonight." Izzie bounced into the kitchen, shedding coat and purse as she went to the fridge for a pop. Her smile was wide and tight, lending her face that extra special manic shine George had gotten so used to seeing PA. Post-Alex. Stupid Alex.
"Yeah? I wonder if I have time to put that deadbolt on my door." George mused as put a frozen pizza in the oven. He had one, a deadbolt. He'd gotten it after Izzie had tried to sneak again after he'd thrown them out after the last "but, it's starting to rain, George" night.
Izzie huffed and leaned into the kitchen island, her hands curling around her pop. "You're no fun."
"I'm plenty of fun. But I have a limit, you know." George glared at Izzie as Meredith slunk into the kitchen.
"Whatever. Are you busy tonight?" Izzie gave up her can of pop to Meredith and continued to eye George. He felt like a ferret and Izzie was the mongoose and wow, he really had to stop watching kids movies.
"Why, no, Isabel, I'm not busy. Which you know because you saw me crash and burn and oh, thank you SO much for telling Cristina. And Meredith." He'd spent about 15 minutes trying to ask Molly from Peds out. He'd failed. Miserably.
Meredith perked up as she heard her name. "Whuh?
"George is being a big girl about his crash and burn."
"Oh." She looked at George and now he had both girls staring him down. Like he was some kind of mongrel beast.
"I seriously hate you both. Also, stop doing the thing with your evil eyes."
In unison, both his roommates chanted, "What thing with our eyes?"
Later, after bad Chinese food and too much tequila, George let himself be maneuvered into service as a body pillow. Meredith lay stretched out on the couch, her head on his lap, his hands playing in her hair. Izzie tossed kernels of corn at both of them from her position on the floor, leaning against George's left leg, his right propped up on the coffee table.
If he concentrated on things like linear geometry and detailed mental lectures about gross anatomy, he'd forget how good and sweet Meredith's hair smelled. The warm weight of Izzie against his leg, her body bouncing as she giggled at the movie. George blearily looked at the television.
"Um. What are we watching?"
"Shaun of the Dead. Oh, look! I love it when David dies. What a moron."
But if George closed his eyes, he didn't hear the pathetic moans of movie zombies (okay, pretty good moans, like they sounded authentic even if George didn't really know anything about zombies, movie or otherwise). He heard Izzie giggle and Meredith snort. The sound of his own heartbeat filled his ears, his heart rising up on his throat and when he opened his eyes, the movie was over.
He let his roommates get up and go into the kitchen before mumbling something about his teeth and dashing upstairs. The dull thud of his feet against the stairs echoed the first rumblings of thunder. George sped through his night time rituals (brush teeth, floss, brush teeth again to catch nasty stuff that flossing brought out, gargle with Scope, gargle with water, pee) and had one hand on his door when he heard Meredith's voice.
"Geooooorge."
Against his sense of self-preservation, George turned. Meredith stood, her eyes heavy with sleep, leaning into the wall as if it were a feather bed. He swallowed down the dread in his throat. Dread, as it turned out, felt an awful lot like vomit.
"Um, yeah?"
"Can we share tonight?" The dim light of the hallway cast shadows on Meredith's face, and for a moment she could have been anyone, anyone but the girl George wanted so much he felt in his toes. Then she walked forward, closer to the hall lamp, and the shadows fell away and left Meredith looking sad.
"No." He quickly stepped inside his room and slammed the door, the glass shuddering with the force he used. Just as fast, he opened it again and without looking at Meredith, or Izzie, who had also come upstairs, he muttered, "Okay," and left the door cracked open.
He'd find his backbone tomorrow.
It only happened on rainy nights. Only on dark nights, full of thunder and sharp jags of purple lightening. The kind of night where everyone felt unsettled and insecure.
George felt warm legs and soft hands and underneath he felt content. Safe, even.
Stupid Alex would call him pathetic. Izzie and Meredith would probably kill him if they knew why he spent so long in the bathroom after rainy nights. Or maybe they did, and they didn't mind. Or care, or bother to care.
Izzie kneaded George's shoulder with her hand. Meredith lay flush against his side, one hand tucked under her head. George lay flat on his back and wished for the impossible.
He wished for an eternity of rainy nights.
![[fin]](../2005-1banner.png)