1 Year Engagement

1

Ben was stressed, his mind was racing trying to figure out why in the hell the woman woke up. It did not make any sense. He felt a little guilty as the woman cried and yelled at the two surgeons and the chief but still he felt as if he didn't have anything to do with this.

Ben caught up to Miranda and walked side by side with her after they left out of the room, "Here's what we do. I'm going to check the anesthetics themselves...You draw a CBC, a chem-18, and let's do some genotyping studies."

Miranda looked up at him like she couldn't believe he was even talking to her. This man has really lost his mind. "Oh. Oh Here's what we do. We? Did you not hear her? The girl is traumatized. So, The only thing we are doing is getting sued. Because of you." She turned her back to him immediately, to head down the hall.

Ben couldn't help it, he reached out and touched her arm before she could get away. He had never been disrespected this much in his whole life.

Miranda glared at him and looked down at her arm in disbelief that he actually dared to put his hands on her. "Where do you even get off speaking to me like that? You have no idea what went wrong in that OR," Ben questioned appalled.

Miranda turned to look him in the eyes. "Well, here's what I know. I know that you're new here. I know you probably still have a chip on your shoulder because your parking space at Mercy West was better. And I know you're an anesthesiologist, which means you make buckets of money logging reasonable hours, sitting on your behind and flipping through Architectural Digest while somebody on the other side of the curtain does the real work and gets sued for it."

"Excuse me, you have no idea—"

Miranda cut him off immediately "I don't know what they did at Mercy West, but here at Seattle Grace, we expect to be able to trust the gasman, trust him to do his job so that we can do ours." Miranda gestured at him "We expect the gasman to stay awake at the switch, no matter how long and boring a procedure might be. We expect the gasman to stay focused enough to keep the patient unconscious!" She fumed staring at him before ultimately shaking her head. Her phone blared its simple ring tone and Ben watched as she picked it up and turned to leave.

"Hey, Daddy," Miranda spoke agitated into the phone.

Ben watched her walk away and he was in disbelief. How dare she talk to him like he was nothing. Who died and made this woman God?

Mistakes can happen, but this, this wasn't his fault. Yeah, he had been distracted he had a lot going on. This bulldhit he was dealing with was stressing him out. He was being blackmailed and had no choice but to give in to what the man wanted.

"Hey, since you are at work, I will keep it short. We would like for you to join us for dinner at the Seattle house tomorrow night."

Miranda groaned,  despite his wording it wasn't a request.

"Tomorrow why so sudden?" She questioned.

"I have important business to discuss with you."

"Okay, and we can't do that over the phone?..."

"Miranda be there at 7 pm sharp."

"Okay, I will, see you tomorrow." She relented.

After going back into the O.r. Miranda listened to the Anesthesiologist make jokes with her and she had to say she was honestly amused. It wasn't his fault the patient woke up on the table but it still didn't change what she thought about him and she wasn't taking back what she said to him.

The next day Miranda got dressed and put on a skirt and blouse with pearls. She wore her hair back in a bun and put on some black heels.

She drove over to the Seattle house and parked. Miranda walked up to the door and rung the doorbell.