Jackson pushed the single button remaining on his shirt through its eyelet. When he looked down and saw the stretch of skin that remained exposed, he shook his head. "Well, that was poor planning on my part," he chuckled. Realizing the implications of his statement he turned to Stephanie, "I meant ripping the buttons off my shirt, not . . . ." He pointed to himself, to Stephanie, and then back at himself.

"I know what you meant," Stephanie smirked, unperturbed. She was pulling her hair back and into a ponytail, having given up on re-establishing any order with only her fingers as a tool. As she finished, her hands fell to her lap. "So, now, what do we . . . ."

Jackson smiled. "The last time you asked that question, I offered to take you home and we ended up back here, so I'm not really sure how to answer."

"You can take me home," Stephanie laughed. "I'll keep my hands to myself this time." Jackson opened the door to climb out of the backseat, and then leaned back in to offer his hand to Stephanie. As she took his hand and stepped out, she recalled that they had not used the doors to move from the front to the back of the vehicle. Instead they had climbed over the seats and center console in a jumble of limbs and heavy breathing.

Jackson watched a small smile creep onto her face as she straightened to her full height. "What?" he asked.

"I was just thinking about how neither of us seemed to remember that the doors were an option before." One of her eyebrows rose in amusement.

"We're surgeons. We're goal-oriented; sometimes that means getting creative with strategy," Jackson said.

"And technique." Stephanie added. She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth while Jackson paused to stare. He remembered her biting her lip the same way as he moved over her in the car.

He licked his own lips once before he recovered, "I should . . . ah . . . let's get you home." He guided her to the passenger side of the car and held the door open while she climbed in.

Once he got behind the wheel and started the car, she offered directions, "I'm on Fowler Avenue. Turn right as you pull out of the lot." Afterwards, they slipped into silence and Jackson wondered what Stephanie was thinking. When he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye, he glanced her way. His radio's volume was so low that the music was barely perceptible, but she was nodding along to the 90s R&B ballad that played. He liked that song and he liked that she seemed to like it too. She felt his attention and turned her head, "What?"

"Nothing," he smiled. "Fowler's the next intersection, right?"

"Yeah. Take a left at the light." Having readied himself for another stretch of quiet, he was surprised when she blurted, "You know I'm not expecting us to start dating now, right?"

"I—" Jackson was cut off when Stephanie rushed on.

"I mean, you're great, and gorgeous, and seem like a really good guy, but I don't have any expectations. I'm not gunning for a Grey-Shepherd fairytale ending here."

He chuckled, "I asked you out. How do you know I'm not the one looking for the fairytale?"

"You didn't ask me out," she smiled. "Kepner asked me for you. What was that about anyway? The attendings taking interns to Bailey's wedding?"

Jackson hesitated. He was grateful that he was driving and had an excuse to not look at Stephanie. "Kepner thought we should expand our social circle." He told himself that the statement was most of the truth. He doubted that a discussion on being set up by his ex would make for good post-coital conversation. He continued, "It wasn't necessarily meant to be interns and attendings. When I asked you to bring a friend for Karev, I didn't know it would be Wilson." They were stopped at a red light, so Jackson could watch her nod her understanding.

Stephanie spoke again when the light blinked green. "It's that building on the left," she said pointing to a multi-story number beyond a bank and grocery store. Moments later, Jackson pulled into one of the spots marked "visitor" just past the building's entrance. He turned off the car and reached for his door handle, but stopped when he felt Stephanie's hand on his arm, "It's ok. You don't need to—" she began.

"I want to," he stated. He got out of the car and walked around the back to open her door. After she climbed out, he closed the door behind her and shoved his hands into his pockets while she dug her keys out of her bag. She held them up to him with a smile, and led the way inside.

They were silent as they passed through the lobby and rode the elevator to the third floor. "This is me." Stephanie finally spoke as they reached the fourth door down the carpeted hallway.

Before a new silence could stretch into awkwardness, Jackson spoke, "Well, ordinarily this is the point at which I would ask if I can see you again, but I know I'll see you again at work. So what I really want to know is if I can take you out again?"

"'This point' meaning after you've already had sex with a woman?" Stephanie asked. Even if she had been able to hide her smile, her teasing tone would have given her away.

"No," Jackson chuckled, "'This point' meaning after I've enjoyed a date and decided that I want to spend more time with a woman."

"Oh, well in that case, yes. You can take me out again."

"Do you have plans next weekend?" he asked. As he spoke, he moved forward forcing her to tilt her head up to look into his face.

"I'm scheduled for Friday and Sunday night, but I'm free on Saturday." Her eyes moved from his eyes to his mouth and back as she answered.

He dropped a kiss onto her lips before speaking again. "Saturday night then." Another kiss, a beat longer. "Can I pick you up here?"

She pulled his face back down. "Mmmhmm," was her mumbled agreement as their lips met again.

At some point, the sound of another door opening reminded them that they were still standing in a public hallway. Jackson lifted his head and backed away from where the two had pressed themselves against Stephanie's apartment door. "I should go," he said.

His voice told Stephanie that he could be convinced to stay with very little effort, but she decided against it. She mustered a nod and one word, "Right."

Jackson leaned forward again, but this time his lips fell on her cheek rather than her mouth. "Goodnight, Stephanie."

"Goodnight, Jackson."