"I missed you last night," Derek comments when I see him next, standing outside the interns' locker room.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, pulling my hair up into a ponytail and securing it with the elastic band that was formerly on my wrist. "I had a long day."

"I heard you were with Sloane," he says and I glance over at him, trying to determine if he's upset that I spent yesterday with Mark. Not that it should matter; I'm an intern, and Mark is an attending, and he's here to teach me, I reason. Derek is just going to have to deal with it.

"Yeah," I say offhandedly. I scan the hall for any sign of Bailey, but she hasn't arrived yet.

"Don't let him treat you like his geisha."

"He doesn't."

"Okay," Derek says. He stops in front of me, which forces me to come to a standstill as well. "Let's have dinner tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Don't sound so excited," he teases me. He winks at me and straightens the lapels of my lab coat before sauntering away.

The rest of the day speeds by. I'm with Bailey for most of the day, and she has me running circles so that the day is over before I know it and I find Derek waiting for me by the elevator in the lobby.

"Hi," he says. He takes my hand and squeezes it.

"Hi," I return his greeting.

"Long day?"

"Are they ever not?"

"Well, actually, I've been off since noon."

I scowl at him. "Must be nice to be a high powered attending."

"It is," he grins. "You'll be one before long."

"Right."

"Anyway," Derek continues, ignoring my cynicism, "I had some time today, so I got something for you."

Despite myself, I perk up at this. "You did?"

"Uh huh," Derek grins.

"What is it?"

"You'll see," he says mysteriously. He leads me out to his car and opens the passenger side door for me. I climb in and wait for him to get into the driver's seat.

"Tell me," I wheedle.

"After dinner. I'm starving."


When we end up at Derek's trailer after dinner, I'm not surprised, but my interest is piqued.

"Is it time for my gift yet?" I ask impatiently as Derek lets us inside.

He laughs and takes off his coat, then helps me out of mine.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asks. "I have a bottle of wine."

I lift my eyebrows. "Is that it?"

"No," he replies. He moves a few steps over and finds the bottle of wine and a corkscrew.

"Derek," I sigh impatiently.

He grins and pours us each a glass of wine after deftly uncorking the bottle.

"Okay," he says. He takes a sip of his wine, then sets the glass down and tells me to close my eyes.

"Seriously?" I ask, but do as I'm told.

I hear Derek rustling around in the kitchen and then his warm voice. "Okay, open your eyes."

I do so and I'm met with an array of candies scattered on the kitchen table, along with a box, which displays what is ideally a finished gingerbread house.

"Oh," I say, trying to prevent disappointment from creeping into my voice.

Derek is grinning madly and I raise my eyes to his.

"Come on, you can't say no to this!"

Wanna bet? I think. Cautiously, I approach the table.

"You want to build a gingerbread house?"

Derek nods enthusiastically.

"Why?"

"It's fun."

"You were one of those weird kids who thought that solving math questions was fun, weren't you?"

Derek's face falls and I immediately feel guilty.

"Okay, but it's going to be hideous."

"Nonsense," Derek declares. "Come on."

Derek hands me the box before pulling out another.

"Wait," I say. "We each get one?"

"Sure," he smiles.

"Is this going to be some kind of competition?" I ask him suspiciously.

"Meredith," he says patiently. I look over at him and find his blue eyes incredibly perceptive. "I just wanted you to have your own."

I pick up the icing bag and point it at my house.

"So what do I do with it?" I ask.

"Anything you want," he replies. "I'll even let you pick your candy first."

I look over at him. "You know, you're not going to make me love Christmas."

Derek just smiles to himself and gets to work on his house.

When we're done, I have to admit that mine looks pretty good, despite the icing sliding off the roof.

I smile at Derek and he nods approvingly.

"Next year, we'll build one together," he says, and I start to think Christmas might not be so bad after all.