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"Obviously, I can't go out with him, right?" Meredith asked, directing her question toward Alex and Blake who were updating patient charts.
"Do I look like a chick to you?" Alex retorted, his voice laced with mock offense. "Do I look like I care about yeast cream or tingling feelings? I mean, he's not in jail or on drugs or keeping body parts in his basement. You want to do him, do him."
Meredith rolled her eyes at his typically crass response. "Not do him. Date him," she clarified, emphasizing each word. "I'm not doing anybody."
Blake let out a playful scoff. "She's knitting," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"I need Eugene Foote's chart," Cristina said to a nurse near them. Pausing a beat, she took in the scene and raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Who are we talking about?"
Meredith, eager to get her dilemma sorted out, continued her train of thought. "It's weird, right?" She mused, her voice filled with uncertainty. "I mean, he's Derek's vet. He's Doc's vet. He's my McVet. It's weird to date him, right?"
Cristina's head snapped up from the chart she was scanning. "Wait, did you say 'vet'?" She interjected, a bewildered expression on her face. "Like, animals? Oh, you can't date a vet. He's not even a real doctor."
"Dammit," they heard Addison swear as she rubbed the spilt coffee off of her jacket with a wad of paper towels. "Sex. Hot sex. I need that," the attending ironically laughed to herself.
"Must not have gone very well this morning," Meredith whispered to the three interns. "Just run if she looks at you," she advised.
"I need an intern, now," Addison said, approaching them.
