So, I wrote this a while back and after having a dust out of files, figured this was one I was curious what feedback would be. I'm not a good writer by any means, but this one I liked a little more than others.

It's set back in season 2, the bomb episode- and is just a small twist from when Derek is asking where Meredith is, after the bomb explodes, and how it might pan out if Richard had taken him to Meredith instead of Addison.

"Where is she?"

"You had to be a hero," Richard says, ignoring or perhaps missing the desperation in Derek's voice.

"Where is she?!" Derek repeats.

Richard can see Addison coming down the corridor; she hasn't spotted either of them yet.

Adele looks at Richard, it's pleading too, and he relents.

"She's right here." He says. It might be against his better judgement, and it most likely is a terrible idea, but he can tell just how distraught Derek is. And he can tell, without a doubt that Derek is not thinking or asking about his wife one single bit this time.

Before Addison can spot them or reach them, he puts a hand to Derek's shoulder and leads him off in the other direction. He takes Derek down the hallway, to the interns' locker room at which George O'Malley is sitting down against the wall outside.

Derek barely registers him there because all he can focus on is Meredith. All he has to focus on is Meredith, because if he doesn't, if he doesn't see that she's alive and somewhat okay, he'll break. George looks up at Derek, mouth slightly ajar, both surprised and questioning Derek's presence here.

But Derek doesn't care. He needs Meredith.

Richard steps aside and Derek pushes the door open, slips inside and waits for it to close fully before continuing. Really, he needs to gather some courage first.

Meredith is in the shower, Stevens and Yang either side of her, brushing the multiple specks of flying debris and bloody pink dust off of her. It breaks Derek's heart that she's here, that she had to go through that. That she had to hold her hand on a bomb. That she witnessed a man blow up in front of her.

Cristina notices him first. "Hey, get out!" She hisses. "Get out!"

Derek ignores it, stepping into the shower and ignoring the spray of water as it splatters his clothes in heavy pelts. Meredith stares at him- not past him, not through him- at him, seeing him. He steps closer, and the pain in his eyes is apparently only evident to her.

"Get out!" Cristina repeats. "This is not your place anymore; she doesn't want you here! So get lost!"

Meredith doesn't refute this and he decides to take that as a good thing.

"Uh, Dr. Shepherd, she's right… this isn't your place and Meredith is… you can't be here right now so."

Izzie tries as well but nothing but Meredith telling him no will stop him.

"I'm taking her home." He finds himself saying.

Cristina pulls a face, like she doesn't understand why the hell he thinks he could or ever would be able to. "Uh, no." She says. "We'll take her home. You can steer well clear."

Derek shakes his head and repeats himself. "She needs to go home. I'm taking her."

Izzie looks at Cristina, and it's a different look than the one Cristina wears. He can tell, by way of quick glance, that Izzie is thinking he might be the better choice here.

"Meredith?"

She hasn't said a single word since the bomb exploded, since the hallway and Dylan blew up, literally, right in her face, and nearly knocked her right out. As awful as she feels now, as she will for a while most probably, the thought of Derek brings a little bit of comfort to her. And she's so messed up inside, so freaked out and walking around in a dream; it's a miracle that he alone can achieve that.

"Let him take me," She whispers, not taking her eyes away from him. She hasn't ever since he entered this tiny shower cubicle thing.

He steps forward, ignoring the two either side of her, turns off the shower spray and takes her in his arms. It not quite a full embrace, but she's going to savour it all nonetheless and so is he.

Cristina huffs but she leaves with Izzie. If it is what Meredith wants- despite not agreeing with it- she'll let her have it this time. Besides, there's something in Derek's eyes, his voice, his body that says he's hurting too and she can't take Meredith from him because of that.

***

They're curled up on the sofa, finding solace and ease of mind for themselves in each other.

His fingers trace over the cut on her forehead. His touch is delicate; it'd never be anything else. She feels cold, perhaps it's the shock, but his fingers spread warmth through her and spread it like a wildfire. It's wrong that it feels this good but at the moment? She doesn't care to differentiate right from wrong, good from bad. Married from not. She can't see anything past this blur of a day. She's not going to try. Everything hurts, everything feels off, everything feels too surreal for anything to be of comfort… so why would she push away the single thing that does feel good right now?

He pushes the hair back away from her forehead. If she could form a coherent thought, she'd be amused at how things seem to have done a 180- if this were any other day, she'd be slapping him away sometime about now. Or she wouldn't be, because he wouldn't have touched her in the first place.

His fingers are still on her cut, barely touching it, barely touching her, as if afraid to. He swallows the lump in his throat, pushing down the awful, sick feeling, that this could've been much worse. He should be happy this is all she got.

Meredith is watching him, eyes not blinking or moving off him.

"You nearly died." He says, eventually, breaking the most uncomfortable of silences.

"I nearly died," She echoes.

He nods, and is suddenly very choked up. There are tears threatening to betray just how scared he felt and still feels at the prospect of nearly losing her. The lump in his throat can't be swallowed down.

"I'm glad you didn't die," He chokes.

She smiles, chuckles a little inwardly. "I hardly expected you to be glad I nearly did," She teases.

He manages a smile too, but then turns serious again. "If you'd… I couldn't have…"

"Sssh, I know," She whispers. It's her turn to hold him and she feels the salty tears leave his eyes and soak her shirt moments later.

When she yawns later, Derek realizes how exhausted she must be. He pulls her up off the sofa, tugging her by the hands. She'd protest, because going to bed means Derek'll leave, but her body screams its exhaustion out every pore in her body.

"I'll go when you're asleep," He says, as if reading her mind. Meredith is not even ok with that. That isn't enough.

She knows she needs him right now, as much as he needs her. Neither may be willing to admit it but they both need each other tonight. However, he can't stay with her. Not the whole night tonight or any other night. But fuck, she's gotta be one messed up person. He's caused her so much freaking hurt and she should be pushing him away with a barge pole, but she can barely bring herself to let him leave. She feels so damaged right now, it's surely gotta be wrong that the guy who's caused her the most damage in the past seems to be the only one that'll bring her comfort.

She lies underneath the covers, warm and snug as a bug in a rug; at first he lies on top next to her, his head on her pillow too. But she shakes her head and makes him get underneath like her. It is a little cold in her house, her bedroom, and he tells himself that his reason for getting underneath the duvet with her.

"Tell me what happened, tell me what happened in there." Derek pleads. It's cruel, making her re-live it, think about it again, and he knows that but he has to know.

Meredith scratches at her nose, thinking about it for a moment first. "Everyone left. The whole scrub team, everyone went. It was me and Burke, talking to Dylan. He was the…" She trails off. "The anaesthesiologist and the young girl were alone in there; he freaks out and leaves too. She has one hand on this thing and one hand on the ventilator pump, keeping it going and keeping him breathing. But she leaves too. Who wouldn't? Getting out was the clever thing to do, it was the wise thing. I couldn't let it go off though. It was… I just reached for it, did it… it couldn't explode, Derek. I couldn't let it go off."

"No, I know," He soothes.

"And he, Dylan, was barking orders at me, and I'm me and I'm holding a bomb, so of course I start to freak out. So he tells me to picture someone I do like, not him, somebody that I do like, telling me what to do and telling me I can do it. So I closed my eyes, for a second and... it was so white. I was still in the OR, standing exactly as I had been, except there was no table, nobody else there, no silly guy that'd fired a homemade bomb, no Burke, no guy yelling orders… just me, and then…"

When he thinks she won't finish that thought, he encourages her on. "Then what?" He asks curiously.

"Then it was just me and you." She whispers.

Derek raises an eyebrow.

Meredith misinterprets his expression, mistaking the shock of her imaging him for scepticism. "I know it sounds stupid, ok? But you were standing there; you told me it'd be ok. You told me that I could do this. It was you. You helped me, you made me… able, to do it. You said I could do it and I believe you."

"You can do anything you want, you're the strongest person I know," Derek tells her. She snorts lightly, disputing that. "Except that, except what you did… no more hands on bombs, Meredith."

She can hear the agony in his voice. "No more hands on bombs," She agrees.

She's mostly towards slumberland, barely conscious when the bed shifts and she can feel his weight move. She doesn't open her eyes when she gropes for his arm and pulls him back to her, and she doesn't regret it when she croaks a hoarse, "wait."

"Mer…"

His insides curl with desire when she moves closer, tangling her legs with his and taking his arm and holding it around her body. Not desire to take her, to bury himself in her like he longs most days to do, but to be closer, to be with her. For Meredith to be his, he to be Meredith's again.

"I can't remember our last kiss." She whispers. "All I could think was, I'm gonna die today and I can't remember our last kiss which is pathetic, but last time we were together and happy, I wanna be able to remember that. And I can't, Derek. I can't remember."

Derek can remember with vivid detail. Too much for someone who is supposed to be a married man. But he can remember nearly every moment with Meredith and he's not going to let himself forget.

She wants to remember and he delights every time he thinks about them, so he's not going to deny her the chance of knowing.

"It was a Thursday morning. You were wearing that ratty little Dartmouth t-shirt you look so good in, the one with the hole in the back of the neck." Meredith rolls over on to her other side to face him, but at the last minute, avoids eye contact. "You had just washed your hair," He continues. "It smelt like some kind of… flower."

The last few days, Derek has noticed she snores. Not a little, not quietly, but a fair, loud amount. It wakes him up, keeps him awake- but sometimes he doesn't mind so much because this loud noise that manages to come from such a small person? He finds it… adorable.

So this morning, he's already awake, watching her sleep and snore away. It's something she'd smack him for if she knew. His eyes rake up and down her body appreciatively, one hand following his gaze, trailing over her skin and loving each and every minute of it. He wonders if she'd be mad if he woke her up a little early to get in a quickie.

She stirs in her sleep and the snoring cuts out to his amusement. Seconds later, she moves again, backing herself right up against him, her cute little ass pushing right up against his groin.

Damnit.

Fuck.

He doesn't care what mood she wakes up to now, he's going to have to wake her up for that sex now. He's already starting to feel hard and all she's done be there and subconsciously brush herself up against his cock. He dips his head down and peppers her neck with kisses, sweeping her hair aside so he has full access to her neck. He knows it drives her insane, and he knows if he gets it right (and ok, if he's lucky) she won't wake up bad tempered, but in fact more than ready to go.

"Derek…" She groans. "Getoff… what time is it?"

"Fifteen minutes till the alarm." He replies. "Which I'm sure you'll kill me for but… I need you," He whispers, sucking on her neck. "You're here and naked and it's not something I can ignore. I need you." He repeats.

With a final groan, she rolls over to face him. She's bleary-eyed, very tired, and for a second he feels immensely guilty for waking her. "Kiss me first, wake me up." She says.

He does, slowly and almost painstakingly well, because he's come to know that kissing her like this really riles her up.

She loops her arms around his neck, pulls his head down to her and puts her lips to his ears. "Take me in the shower."

He likes this idea. "But—"

"No, no buts. 'Cept the naked ones." She laughs. She pushes him off, scrambles off the bed and to the shower, leaning against the door waiting. "Coming?" She asks. "Because I'm not freaking freezing my ass off waiting."

He bounds off the bed and she squeals as he tickles her, pushing her into the shower ahead of him.

The play fighting and teasing calms down fast, when they seem to take note of just how wet and naked the other one is. "I want you now." Meredith tells him, brushing wet curls from his face. Derek murmurs his agreement. One small hand, wet and slippery, delightfully like her, grasps his cock and as much as he wants and is desperate for her, he has to protest when she wraps one leg up around his hip and starts to guide him inside her. If he's inside her now, there's little chance he'll be able to withdraw and get away to locate one of those little silver foil condom wrappers- which he's pretty sure are only back in the bedroom.

"Mer, we need—"

He is cut off by a hot, heavy kiss. "Here's the deal." She whispers. "We both know we're clean thanks to the hospital testing thingy… and… I've been on the pill for a little while now so we can do the spontaneous things, spontaneous sex things like sex in the shower," She purrs, "that don't have to require a condom. If you want to. I do. I trust you so, if you want to…" She trails off, suddenly in a moment of self doubt.

He doesn't need time to think that over or to tell her that yes he wants to and yes he trusts her, instead pushes himself up inside her and lets her know that way.

She trusts him, has given him a big part of herself and he could potentially ruin them if he doesn't tell her about the closet of skeletons soon.

She wraps her legs around his waist, rolls her head back, cusses in such a way that it spurs him on, and he forgets about everything that isn't her or them. She clenches her muscles, teases him, and milks him dry when he cums after her.

***

Meredith is almost amazed at how fast he can be ready sometimes. When he's not taking his time and making sure his perfect hair looks perfect, he can be done in five minutes sometimes. He can be slow and lazy when he wants, mostly when they're both too tired and unwilling to get to work, preferring to stay in bed with each other instead- but at other times it's mad that she could blink and he'd go from being naked to dressed, empty mug to steaming hot one, bare feet to socked-and-shoe-ed.

She's sitting in the kitchen, having made several pieces of toast and fresh pot of coffee. She's left a bowl of that healthy crappy cereal he might as well adore, minus the milk because she's not a hundred percent sure he'll have time for cereal. To stick a piece of toast or two between his teeth, maybe.

Derek is dashing like a mad man, trying to leave on time, glaring at her when she mocks him for her later shift. He practically skids into the kitchen, not yet having a pair of shoes on and slipping in his socks on the floor. Derek reaches out and grabs the counter top, steadying himself before he falls flat. Meredith smirks and holds back a laugh, but is unable to stop a small sound emitting her lips. The thought of him nearly falling, flat on his back, feet up towards the sky is amusing to her.

"Oi," He grins impishly. "That wasn't funny. What if I'd fallen?"

"Then you'd have hit your head and maybe occurred a little damaged to your already damaged brain."

"Not. Amusing." He punctuates, chuckling nonetheless.

Meredith snakes two arms around his torso and pulls him in to her body. They stand, so close their faces are but mere inches from each other, close enough to feel one another's breath on their cheeks. They stand still, quiet for a moment, looking at each other, smiling mischievously as their eyes meet, before Meredith leans in to kiss him.

"As much as I'm happy to remain here and do this," He says, speaking in between kissing her, "I don't think anyone else would be happy if they knew the reason I was late was so I could get in plenty of this." He tugs at her lower lip, capturing it between both of his.

"Well, I don't want to stop kissing you just yet. It makes me happy to know the reason you're late is because of this."

Derek walks them backwards until they hit a stool, pushed out from the counter. Running his hands down her body to under her bum, he hoists her up on to the seat. Meredith opens her legs so he can stand in between them. He kisses her a last time, making sure this one will last him-and her-until they get a small opportunity again. Whenever that is. Too freaking long.

"I should've left five minutes ago," He groans, leaning her forehead against his. "I don't have time for this at all."

"So go," She whispers.

He sighs and again groans. He grabs a slice of toast and bites of a piece. "I need to do my teeth." Bites another piece. "Will you pour me some coffee into a flask?"

"Ask nicely, I might."

Both arms encircle her and hold her tight. "Please, Meredith, please pour me some coffee." He growls into her neck. "Pour me some goddamn coffee." His lips nibble her ear. "And then I'll repay your kindness tenfold tonight. Over and over and over."

She shivers involuntarily. God, the things this man did to her…

"I think I can do it then." She manages, her mind slowly turning to those bad, porny thoughts in which Derek stars stark naked. She swats his ass. "Go."

He's finished his slice of toast by the time he's reached the bathroom, does his teeth and is back down in less than a minute. He grabs his shoes, sitting back down at the kitchen table to put them on. Meredith pushes the coffee across the table to him and picks up her newspaper again to read.

"So," He starts, "I want to take you to dinner tonight, what do you think? Good food, bottle of wine, carbs in a basket…"

"I think I like it, sounds great. Gives me something to look forward to today. Just nowhere too fancy because by the end of my shift I'm gonna be looking like crap."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Never. Let me know when you're finishing and we'll meet down in the lobby?"

"Yep, will do." He stands up and grabs the hot flask.

"I need to run so, see you at work?" He bends down, brushing the loose strands of hair from her face. She leans to him, puts her hand on his chest and kisses him.

"It was soft, quick, kind of like a habit. You know like, we'd being doing it every day for the rest of our lives. I went to work and you went back to reading the paper."

Meredith looks up at him now, having had her gaze focused down on the pillow as the memory had come flooding back to her. Not just the kiss but the moments before: in the kitchen, in the bathroom, the bedroom, the waking up tangled in his warm body…

"That was the last time we kissed." He finishes quietly.

She nods her thanks, because she can't trust herself to speak. They sit in silence for an unknown amount of time, both mulling over that kiss and what it means to remember and still feel it with such vivid detail.

Meredith knows that if Derek stays with Addison, these memories are all she'll have of them. So she'll make sure she remembers them. She'll think of them and look back, knowing they were all good memories, knowing they- her and Derek- were good. Before it all. She won't cling to them, or to him, not forever, just as long as it takes for her to accept this for what it is and move on. But until then she has absolutely no intention of forgetting anything else.

"I should go now," Derek says, injecting the silence with noise. "You need to rest. Sleep."

"Right," Meredith croaks. How long has it been since she'd spoken again?

He pushes up from the bed and she does the same, pulling herself into a sitting position. Derek walks over for his shoes, brings them back over and perches on the edge of the bed to pull them on.

"Thanks for staying with me," She says. "Thank you for being here."

"I couldn't have been anywhere else," He admits honestly. He pulls her in for a hug and for a moment, they both get lost in each other again. "I needed to know," He whispers. "I needed to know you were ok and alive, I needed to know…"

The latter part of this day would've been much harder without him there and she's more grateful than she can tell him. She nods and buries her face in the crook of his neck, suppressing the urge to press her lips to the skin there.

When he pulls away, after what felt like both an eternity and not enough time at all, there's something she can see in his eyes; something he wants to say? She can read his expressions like a book sometimes, but she can't quite pinpoint what the exact one is this time. There's a hesitance in there and it confuses her.

"What?" She whispers, not wanting to sound harsh or annoyed or anything that might turn whatever he wants to say or do around.

He leans in, kisses her. His lips brush over hers, shape themselves over hers. It's gentle and it's sweet, it's passionate and it's everything. Her eyes are closed, she kisses him back and he is everywhere. The feelings he ignites in her, always, burn like a fire, and burn every part of her. She reaches for him, three fingers cupping each side of his face, delicate and barely there.

It might have only been a relatively short time since they last did this but this is something she feels like she's been missing forever.

It was soft, quick, kind of like a habit. You know like, we'd be doing it every day for the rest of our lives.

He kissed her like it was everything, trying to get across to her every single thing he felt for her. He kissed her for every time he'd thought of doing this, for every time she'd invaded his head and stayed on his mind, he kissed her for every time he'd thought he'd fallen in love with her. One hand leaves his face and she rests it on his chest, hovering over where his heart is. She feels like this is as close as she'll get to it.

When he pulls away, his eyes scanning hers and taking note of her swollen lips and laboured breath and racing heart, he leans in again, kissing her one last time. Resting their foreheads together, both are waiting until their breathing returns to normal. Until they feel normal- if possible because neither feels anything that resembles normalcy when it comes to the other.

"Remember this kiss, ok?" He says to her, with a hint of a smile.