Summary: Friends, they were friends. After a month of dating and no move, April was sure all their companionship meant was friendship. She'd expected it, really, because no man would wait a month to make a move if he really liked her. Which, April supposed, was all her fault because that was the case after twenty eight years of nothing. But when she goes over to Robert Stark's apartment to watch a movie after a cancelled dinner date, April learns that maybe it wasn't all her fault, and maybe he really does like her.

Essentially, what might have happened if April hadn't let Alex, Cristina, and Meredith's comments get to her in 7x17 "This Is How We Do It." Or, better yet, she had never heard their comments and went into the situation completely unprepared for what to expect. AU after 7x17. Not creepy or portraying Stark as a predator at all (seriously).

Rating: T for now. Will go up to M eventually.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is/will be a multi-chaptered fic.

Let me know what you think in a review? Please?

Dinner at his place? April could do that. Watching a romantic movie? Fine, no problem. Arriving at his door and stopping her stomach from twisting in knots? Maybe she couldn't stop that.

Frazzled, nervous hands flattened out her floral blouse, a paisley pink, sleeveless summer top with a ribbon to tie around the front. April hoped she was dressed appropriately for a date that she subconsciously recognized was more intimate than the others, which had taken place at restaurants after work.

April hadn't thought anything of it when Robert Stark suggested they change the restaurant date to dinner and a movie at his house, so she wasn't sure why she was nervous. They were friends, after all, two people who enjoyed each other's company. April knew she had nothing to feel nervous about, especially since he hadn't made a move for an entire month.

April didn't have anything to fear, so she smiled, folded her hands before her, and carefully knocked on the door. She realized fleetingly that it was a good thing they had changed their date to a dinner and movie at his place, because work lasted until 8:30 that evening.

Though April didn't want to feel nervous, she couldn't help the clench of her stomach when the door opened.

Robert met her with an uncharacteristically sweet smile, and all of her fears washed away.

"Hey," she chirped with a smile, sliding past him into the apartment. "Made it!"

"You did," Robert agreed softly as he shut the door with a smile. "I almost thought you wouldn't make it, what with all those post-op reports you had to complete. Even with Karev's help, it took a while."

"Paperwork's part of the job." April didn't want to tell him that Alex hadn't really helped her out with the post-ops, realizing that may have ruined their evening and Alex's day at work tomorrow. She smiled and shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Good, good. Do-" Robert extended his hand, "-do you want me to take your coat?"

"Oh! Thanks." She smiled as he took the pea coat from her, hanging it up in the small closet beside the door. "You have a very..." April turned and took it in, slightly surprised but not overwhelmed. "Very nice apartment."

"Thank you. It's only temporary, but it's home."

"It's...nice."

"Well," he chuckled and crossed his arms, "tell me how you really feel then."

April pursed her lips as she did another take of the condo. "It doesn't look like a bachelor pad."

"I'm not in my twenties, April," Robert reminded her. "I don't need a bachelor pad anymore. I need an apartment I can live in, something some of your fellow residents may not agree with."

The jab made April wince, but she quickly scanned the apartment once more, actually glad to see something that didn't scream bachelor in his twenties.

While April guessed Robert would have cluttered his condo in black furniture with other dark colors, he completely surprised her, as he had done in recent weeks. Bright colors of different shades of red conveyed warmth she hadn't seen from him before their dates. It stimulated her senses, a warm tingling spreading over her skin. A brown sectional sat in the right wall, perfectly placed underneath a blinded window. A coffee table full with medical magazines and journals complimented the couch, and on the left wall poised a mounted flat screen television.

April nodded to the far left corner. "What's with the recliner?"

"I have company over," he answered simply with a shrug. "Sometimes. You'd be surprised to learn that a couch isn't big enough for five people. It can get pretty tight."

April raised an eyebrow at him, smiling when he looked away from her, at the rest of the apartment, and nervously bounced on his heels. "Well, do I get a tour?"

"Oh!" Robert rubbed his hands together. "Well, this is the living room, obviously. And...And to your left is the kitchen. And to your right-"

"That room over there?"

"That's the bedroom."

April's jaw nearly dropped, her head snapping to the room that was darkened without a light, and sealed off to her with a shut door. Bedroom? His bedroom? How did she not see that coming? Did she not realize that his apartment, where he lived and slept, had a bedroom? And why was she so worried? She had nothing to worry about. They wouldn't venture into that forbidden land tonight, she was sure of it. Just dinner in the kitchen and a movie on the couch.

Just dinner in the kitchen and a movie on the couch, April repeated to herself, because it was all she could do to not let the bundle of nerves in her stomach explode and send her skin aflame.

April flashed him a fast, unsure smile. "It's nice."

Robert eyed her wearily. "Are...Are you okay, April?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You just seem flustered, is all." Which wasn't totally unlike her, but she appeared more frazzled than normal, which bothered him slightly. "That, and you've said my apartment's nice almost four times. I think I got it."

She chuckled softly, almost a snort, her chin tucking against her chest. Smiling, April looked back up at him, and couldn't tell by his set face if he was serious or joking as she had originally guessed. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he returned with a slight nod. "Dinner'll be done soon and we can eat, so..." He waved an open hand in the direction of the kitchen, smirking when she took the hint and turned to walk into the kitchen that was small, but just enough for him. Her slow, almost nervous pace signaled to him that something was off tonight, that this wasn't the same woman he had gone to dinner with on multiple occasions.

Robert almost thought she was preparing herself to run, run at the first sign of trouble, and for that he fought back a frown. Not quite sure if he wanted an honest answer, he asked with concern, "Are you sure you're all right, April?"

"Fine."

He nodded slowly, knowing now was not the time to push, not when she looked like she was ready to leave, almost anxious to get this over with. At this point, Robert wanted to call the entire thing off, but didn't want to not spend time with her, not when she looked this gorgeous and reminded him how nice his life had become once she had entered it on a personal level.

Robert was thankful years as a pediatric surgeon taught him patience. He realized he'd need everything he had when it came to April Kepner, and strangely, slow was not a pace he minded when it came to this woman.

Dinner lightened the mood, and went better than April had initially expected. They discussed work little, their conversation only on personal things they enjoyed besides the complex procedures and techniques involved in saving human lives. April enjoyed the conversation. It was filled with intelligence and passion and kind words of encouragement she hadn't yet experienced with her fellow colleagues, who didn't quite share her appreciation for classic movies or literature.

And though Robert Stark enjoyed the fine delicacies restaurants provided, April discovered he wasn't a terrible cook, either.

But then again, April didn't think fettucini alfredo was that hard to master.

She realized, as they settled down onto the couch with some reasonable distance between them, that she really didn't care if he could cook. April didn't care about anything except that she was comfortable around him, enjoyed his company, and couldn't wait for the moments when they could passionately discuss something else that they shared in common.

April smiled sweetly at him when he jostled the remote, his brow creased with irritation. "You know," she reminded him with a smirk, "if you shake it, that doesn't mean it'll work."

"Oh, it'll work." He smiled when, after a forceful smack on the plastic, he hit one of the buttons to reveal a blinding, blue television screen that took only another click of a button to reveal the opening credits to From Here to Eternity, a movie April hadn't seen in a long time and was dying to enjoy with someone who shared her passion. "See?"

"I do," she answered with a smile. "It's not brain surgery, after all."

Robert snorted, and she could faintly see a smile creep on his face. "I could do that, too, if I wanted. I actually dabbled in neurology before choosing pediatrics."

"Why'd you pick pediatrics?"

Robert shrugged, and smiled at her when she tucked her feet beneath her legs, swinging slightly to face him so that she could both watch the television and him. "Believe it or not, I like kids. And brains...They can get really messy and complicated, and kids...Kids spice things up."

"Brain surgery isn't boring, you know."

Robert snorted again. "Have you ever held a scalpel in one place for eight hours? That's hard work."

"I haven't done that in a long time, actually. A few months."

"Over ten years for me," he responded with a shake of his head and a smile. "I don't miss those days, that's for-" He stopped suddenly and frowned as soon as a commercial came on the screen for laundry detergent. "Didn't the movie just come on?"

April smiled. "You don't watch much television, do you?"

He frowned, throwing the remote on the coffee table, disinterested. "Clearly."

"That's okay, I don't watch much television, either," April returned, glad she didn't have to hunt for something to talk about, glad that he watched her with genuine interest in his eyes as he hung on every word. That was nice, she noted to herself, to have someone notice. To have someone care definitely had overwhelming powers, she realized, when just the soft smile on his lips forced her to blush and coyly glance down at her joined, twisted hands. "It's...It's hard when you work eighty hours a week."

"A lot of things are hard in this job, April," Robert told her sadly, "but I'd hardly call missing crappy reality television one of them. That's all that's on nowadays, anyway."

Her eyebrow arched curiously. "I thought you didn't watch any television?"

Robert shrugged and smiled softly. "Sometimes I have to flip to get the news channel I want to watch. Every once and a while I'll catch those reality shows. Who's that little thing that's orange?"

"No clue," April answered with a laugh. "This is the most television I've watched in the past week."

"Well then I should shut up and actually let you watch the movie, huh?" He chuckled, more a breath of air than noise, and looked up to see that the commercials still irritatedly droned on. Scratching his temple thoughtfully, Robert commented, "I suppose I should have just bought the DVD. We'd have seen more than five minutes of the film already."

"We have time," April assured him kindly. "The movie will be on for three hours."

An hour and a half into the black and white movie that won more awards than April could count, she looked over to see Robert had nestled himself against the couch, one arm dangled lazily over the side, the other cradling his neck as if it hurt, occasionally running his fingers through greying strands. He watched the screen with interest, smiling every so often at a line he liked, and April could vaguely feel herself smiling back because she just couldn't help it.

"How many times have you seen this movie?" April asked softly.

Robert hummed quietly, glancing at her as the haze of enjoyment was overrun by alarm. "What'd you say?"

"This movie," she repeated, pointing at the screen, "how many times have you seen it?"

A scowl ghosted over his face as he quickly sat up, leaning so close to her that their shoulders touched, a few inches between their faces. She would have pulled back, too, if the smell of his cologne and aftershave didn't intoxicate her to remain in her spot. "What'd you say, April?"

His warm breath chilled her neck, and she turned her head slightly to face him. "The movie," she repeated once more, her voice no higher than a whisper, "how many times have you seen it?"

"Oh." Robert shrugged slightly and smiled. "A few times. It was a movie that me and my..."

"You and your what?"

Robert frowned slightly and quickly shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

"No," April persisted, her head turning slightly, so close to his that their cheeks brushed. "Really. It's a movie that you and your what?"

His lips pursed momentarily before he dryly answered, "A movie my ex wife and I watched a lot."

She smiled when he couldn't look at her, instead his gaze fixated on the wall. "Oh?"

"Yeah," he agreed with a clear of his throat. "Like I said, don't worry about it." He glanced up at her bemused smirk and shrugged. "It's not...That was a long time ago."

"I see."

April knew his close proximity should have bothered her, coupled the feel of his breath against her skin that twisted her stomach in tight, uncertain knots. She should at least have bolted, told him she was uncomfortable he was so close that, in a few more inches, her mouth would brush against his. But she couldn't be bothered with that, either. Not when the gleam in his eyes lit her skin on fire because for once it felt really, really good to have someone want her instead of pining from afar with no return.

The hairs on the back of April's neck rose when Robert moved slightly, his lips so close to hers that she was certain paper couldn't fit between them. Green, curious eyes met hers, glancing at her quickly for approval, and when he saw only her brown, open eyes, he smiled so sweetly April wasn't sure the flutters in her stomach would ever really stop.

April had never realized that it would feel this good to genuinely have someone want her.

April didn't know where it came from. She wasn't even sure she had feelings for him. Certainly, she couldn't. She couldn't! He was so much older than her, so far in his career that he was her mentor instead of a colleague. And he was so much older than her, a fact she couldn't forget, the grey in his hair and the beginning lines on his face evidence of that. Besides, he was her boss - or one of them, anyway. April saw no reason why she should even consider this an option. No reason why April should have responded when his lips tentatively met hers, as if he was as afraid as her to make a move - even though April was positive he had more experience in physical matters than she.

April figured a barely pubescent teenager had more experience in physical intimacies than she did.

The brush of his lips against hers was soft, so gentle that April wasn't entirely sure he kissed her until he did it again, still tentative but with enough yearning for April to know he wanted her to kiss him back.

Though April had never really seen him as more than a friend, a man she could be herself with and share all her eccentricities and likes, she couldn't resist kissing him back. Not when his kiss twisted her stomach in knots so wonderfully tight April couldn't breathe, and especially not when the graze of his fingers against her cheek scorched her skin in a radiant heat.

April met him move for move as Robert kept the kiss exquisitely slow and gentle. April had kissed men - well, boys, really - who had immediately shoved their tongues into her mouth, and then hadn't even the courtesy to allow her to breathe. Those interactions had ended quickly with her shoving them off and wiping slobber away with such disdain she hadn't allowed the boys near her after that.

Once, April remembered as kissed Robert earnestly back, only a little anxious when he cupped her cheek, she had kissed a boy on the porch of her farmhouse and her father had interrupted them with a shotgun leaning against the door. Caught off guard, they had jumped back ten feet, frazzled, embarrassed, and afraid of the booming presence, her father, a man who had worked in the fields all his life, had over them.

"Time to say good night, Johnny," her father had grumbled, his voice laced more in disappointment than anger.

The boy had darted instantly, and never returned.

Her mother had told her later, in their living room while she helped April braid her hair, that if she was going to kiss a boy, it certainly didn't have to be in the dark. And next time she should be smart enough to make sure they kissed in a spot her father wouldn't ever see. April's tears had subsided at that remark to a soft chuckle, and she and her mother shared a tender, bonding moment April had never forgotten.

The memory made April giggle, and she shrugged Robert's hand away before blushing.

Robert frowned slightly. "April, wh-"

April turned back to him and silenced him with a swift kiss, not wanting him to use this moment of distance to collect his bearings and realize he wanted nothing to do with an inexperienced woman like herself. Seconds later, they kissed like the memory had never separated them.

Within minutes, it wasn't another memory that separated them, but another giggle April couldn't suppress, because even she couldn't fight the nerves she felt when Robert moved to gently push her back against the couch. A simple motion had frozen her body, sending her mind running in circles about everything that could have happened tonight, everything that might have happened if she let him complete the movement.

Images flashed, and her stomach twisted, and her brain just didn't stop. With each kiss that offered no inclination of more, just a solid contentment in the now, April found her inexperience and fears slowly become her worst enemy.

So, of course, instead of pushing him away and telling him she didn't want to move too fast, too soon, April laughed.

She laughed.

Just the thought made her cringe in embarrassment, and when Robert pulled away to cock his head at her, April covered her hand with her mouth because she knew she'd laugh again. "I'm sorry," she managed, biting back her smile. "I don't know why I did that."

Robert quickly ran his fingers through his hair and looked at her with eyes she had only seen during a particularly difficult case and he just couldn't see the solution. With a purse of his lips, Robert pulled back, situating himself back where they had started before the kiss.

April accepted the hand he offered and pulled herself up, too, straightening her shirt that had twisted, and fixing the bra strap that was about to fall past the barely there hem of her shoulder. With a hard swallow, April glanced at him with wide, imploring, and somewhat fearful eyes. "I'm sorry," she told him honestly. "I really don't know why I did that."

Robert exhaled and glanced down at his hands, not making any eye contact with her. "I don't like being laughed at."

"It wasn't you," April reassured him, even as she fought back another giggle. Gently, she nudged his elbow with her own. "Would you believe me if I told you it really was me?"

Robert laughed, short and disbelieving.

Finally, after silence that scared April, he looked over at her and smiled sweetly. "Why don't...Why don't we just watch the movie, hm? Looks like my favorite part is coming on soon."

April knew Robert meant business by the way eyes had darkened as soon as he finished his sentence, his face sternly set. She swallowed hard, nodding slowly as she looked down at her twisted hands. "Okay."

Did her inexperience ruin everything? With Robert turning back to focus on the television, April knew it had.