Grey’s Anatomy Recap: 5.5 “There’s No ‘I’ in Team”


Doing that slow thing – Callie

and Erica arrive at Callie’s apartment after their dinner at Canto’s. They’re

blithe and relaxed because nothing puts a girl in a good mood like pasta al dente and the prospect of getting to second base.

In a seemingly innocuous tone, Erica asks about roommate Cristina’s

whereabouts. Callie says Yang is on call tonight as she pours them both some

wine.  Callie brings Erica her glass. Cue

the Barry White.

Callie: Can I just say, the whole

“taking it slow thing?” Best idea ever.

Erica: It really takes the pressure off.

Callie: Mm. Yeah, we can just hang

out without all …

Erica: …the expectations.

Callie: Why rush things?

Erica: Exactly.

They stand sipping wine and nodding in agreement. They stare at each other.

Callie visibly holds her breath, still nodding and staring. Yup. Just hanging

out. Going slow. Doing the slow thing.

Without another word, they urgently reach for each other and kiss fervently.

Clutching tightly, they fall onto the couch as the camera discreetly ducks

behind the kitchen counter.

If that’s your slow pitch, I’d love to see your fastball.

The Shepherd Method – The next

morning, over at Meredith’s house, Derek is eating cereal and wishing Meredith

would join him for breakfast, the most important meal of the day. She’s late

for work but pauses long enough for him to show off the latest issue of that

old page-turner, Annals of American

. Boy, the mail comes early on her street.

Meredith sees Derek’s big smug face on the cover and reads the article

title: “The New Method of Treating Inoperable Malignant Gliomas; The

Shepherd Method…” Her voice trails off. There’s no mention of her, even

though the clinical trial was her idea.

Oblivious, McEgo smiles twinkly-eyed at her, insufferably pleased with

himself, and only himself. Derek has completely forgotten to mention her, but

looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to gush on his Wheaties at his

conspicuous fabulousness.

Meredith gives him a withering smile and says nothing.

Behind every great man is a woman who wouldn’t be wrong if she shoved her

foot up his ass.

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