It was a typical chaotic afternoon in Meredith Grey’s overcrowded house. The washing machine was already working overtime, stuffed with a mix of scrubs, towels, and the occasional mystery sock no one claimed. April Kepner, ever the responsible one, was on her second load of laundry, humming to herself as she sorted whites from colors.
She pulled open the washing machine and frowned immediately.
There it was.
April’s face twisted in disgust and mild horror. She grabbed a pencil off the counter, carefully spearing the offending underwear as though it were a dangerous specimen in the trauma bay.
“Okay,” she announced loudly as she stormed into the kitchen, brandishing the thong like evidence in a murder trial. “I get that you like to put your dirty clothes in my laundry because, frankly, if you didn’t you’d never have any clean clothes.”
Alex Karev was leaning against the counter, scrolling through something on his phone and shoveling cereal into his mouth. He froze mid-bite.
April continued, voice rising with righteous indignation. “Fine, I’ll wash your dirty underpants, because I’m a good person and clearly, you’re not capable of basic hygiene—but you know what I am not okay with?” She held the thong higher, the pencil wobbling under its weight. “Washing your skank-of-the-week’s dirty underpants!”
Alex blinked, caught between wanting to laugh and realizing that probably wasn’t the right choice. “Uh…” he started, eyes darting to the side like a man seeking backup.
His gaze landed on Jackson Avery, who was leaning in the doorway to the living room, mug of coffee in hand. Jackson had that easy smile he always wore, even when chaos erupted around him.
Jackson took a slow sip of his coffee, then casually strolled over. “Actually,” he said smoothly, plucking the thong from April’s pencil like it was no big deal, “those are… my girl’s.”
April froze. Her eyes widened, her mouth slightly open as the reality, or what she thought was the reality — sank in. “Oh.”
Jackson smirked. “Yeah. Thanks,” he said, giving her a small nod as if she’d just done him a favor.
April blinked. “She wea-“
“Oh yeah,” Jackson cut in quickly, grinning that infuriatingly confident grin of his.
April’s face went bright red. “Okay. Never mind. Nope. I don’t need details. Forget I said anything.” She dropped the pencil like it was contaminated and backed out of the kitchen. “You two are disgusting,” she called as she disappeared down the hall.
Jackson waited until she was gone, listening for her footsteps on the stairs. When the coast was clear, he turned to Alex, tossing the thong across the counter with a flick of his wrist.
“Not hers,” he said simply.
Alex caught it, grinning. “Nope. Lauren. Third floor. Radiology.”
Jackson raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Oh nice,” he said, smirking as the two bumped elbows like it was some sort of bro code ritual.