"Damn it," Derek muttered as he left the scrub room. Performing a 5 hour surgery on only one cup of coffee always made for a stressful day. It didn't help when the patient died anyway.
Talk about a bad day. Wake up to be on time to his 6 o'clock surgery, argue with the wife who still wanted to talk, glared at in the elevator by angry interns - he hadn't meant to break their friend, and she was his friend now anyways - could it possibly get any worse?
Of course it can he realized, as he opened a door to an on call room. Curled up on the bed was the lusty intern that had caused many of the day's problems. He stood in halfway in the room in shock for a moment. The practical half of his brain was telling him to get the hell away from that room before he did something he would regret, but the part of his brain that always made decisions when he was around Meredith was walking into the room, closing the door, and locking it with a small click.
Still in somewhat of a daze he found himself stretching his body out on the bed and spooning in behind her. He could still hear the practical half of his brain screaming against this action, but it changed to a distant wail at the first scent of lavender, the first contact of their bodies.
How can something this wrong feel so right? he wondered. Her long hair brushed against his neck, and he shivered, reaching over her to brush a strand out of her face.
"Meredith," he murmured.
She shifted slightly, and to Derek's utter amazement moaned what could only be his name in her sleep. That broke the slight control he had had over his body since making the erroneous decision to enter the room. He found his lips moving across her neck and landing on her own.
He felt her start as she jolted awake, and instantly drew back, realizing what he had been doing. But before he could get off of the bed, and as far away from that room as possible, slender arms wrapped around his neck and held him in place. She drew his head down and kissed him passionately, her mouth opening to his.
"Meredith, we shouldn't," he whispered as they drew apart.
"You started it," she accused sleepily. Her hands moved under his shirt, and grabbed his shoulders, bringing her head up to his once again. He knew it was wrong, he knew he was married, he knew she wasn't thinking clearly, he knew that it would haunt them later, but at that he moment he just didn't care.
His hands roamed across her body before slipping up her scrub shirt. He stopped kissing for her long enough to draw it over her head. Their eyes met for a moment, and Derek saw in hers the passion that had too long been restrained.
When he finally managed to break the eye contact, he brought his mouth to her neck, placing there hot, wet kisses that moved down her chest as he frantically worked to unclip her bra. He could hear her moaning his name, much like she had in her sleep, and he moved his mouth down to her stomach.
She started squirming below him, and tugged at his pants, his shirt long since discarded. He pulled at the string on hers in turn, and one final thought ran through his head before they finally came together. This certainly isn't boring, and we haven't even started yet.