I Wanna Be Yours

"Chapter 1"

"Have you heard? Dr. Grey is not only the youngest attending on staff here, her mother is Ellis freaking Grey."

"Chief Grey? Grey Method, Ellis Grey?" one of the people in the room prods, asking for more, more, more.

Derek can't help but hear everything the people in the locker room are gossiping about while he changes out of his clothes.

First time in scrubs, and they can't even appreciate the glorious moment, shadowing the excitement with mindless chatting. He enjoys quiet, and silence, and time to take it all in, but apparently they do not.

"Man, I heard people call her Medusa," another voice speaks, more self-assured and confident this time. I'm

"Chief Grey or Dr. Grey?"

"Dr. Grey. Ellis Grey is just...You don't cross the Chief." The voice of another one of his co-workers peaks from the hum of closing lockers and shuffled fabrics.

"How old is the daughter, really?"

"Thirty-one, so I've heard. She did some kind of advanced residency and got board certified before the rest of her class. Probably skipped a couple of grades too, I suppose. I think she's one of the youngest neurosurgeons ever."

Derek's smile falters. He's thirty-five, and he's an intern. Of course there are reasons for this, reasons that make him smile widely and make him feel grateful he has gotten another chance, but he still feels old as he glances around the room. These people can't be more than twenty-six themselves. Maybe he will find a loophole into the Chief's conditions for his comeback and find a way to skip ahead.

"I'd kill to be Dr. Meredith Grey right now."

He studies the kids around him –what Dr. Webber defined his competition while he gave them a tour– wondering what are their talents, really. They don't look all that talented.

There's a sour-faced Asian girl, wild black hair sticking out of the ponytail she has been trying to tie for the past five minutes, a motorcycle helmet peeking from her locker. Next to her, a guy who looks like a jock, acts like a jock, and doesn't seem to know the difference between a spleen and a gallbladder. Of course he's already harassing the only other woman in his line of sight, a tall, slender model-like blonde, curves exactly in the right places, glasses that look a little off on her. The only guy that smiles at him in his scrutiny is a kid who looks almost fresh out of pre-med, Bambi blue eyes and danger written on his forehead, since he drops his stethoscope three times before hanging it at his neck.

Why is he doing this again? Stupid, stupid idea.

"Patterson, Hank, Jones, Wesley. You're with Dr. Herron." A voice intrudes in the locker room, and the four people called up scramble out of the door trying to compose themselves and fix the last of their lab coats or scrubs.

"Karev, Stevens, O'Malley, Yang, Shepherd." Derek's senses are on alert, as he hears his name. He notices that the group of people he has stared at before is most likely the group of people he is going to be stuck with for the rest of his internship. Great, freaking great.

"Good luck, you're with Dr. Bailey. She's right down the hall," the resident announces with a smirk, pointing mindlessly to where said Dr. Bailey is supposed to be.

"Man, The Nazi?" The Jock moans.

"Who's The Nazi?" Bambi's eyes flicker around, frightened.

"That's The Nazi?" Motorcycle Girl's frown deepens, if that is even possible, as their eyes meet the figure of The Nazi.

With a dazzling and welcoming smile on her face, Blonde Model sticks out her hand, dangling it in front of a plump, short, African-American woman. "Hi, I'm Isobel Stevens, but people call me Izzie."