Disclaimer: We're two poor college students. Two poor college students do NOT own Grey's Anatomy.

I leaned against the back of the elevator, flipping through my Sidekick, wondering if there had been a message I had missed. It had been a month since I had given Meredith my number at the bar, and I still couldn't get her out of my head. It had been a month and she still hadn't called. I had been rejected, some tiny little blonde had rejected me. It shouldn't matter, but it did. I had gone over the night obsessively in my head, so obsessively that Mark had managed to call me a chick more than once. I thought I had been charming, funny, witty, and I had been wearing my red shirt, my good looking shirt. How had she managed not to call? And why couldn't I forget her? Why did the petite blond in a Dartmouth shirt take over my thoughts? And why wouldn't she leave them?

The elevator doors pinged open but I didn't bother looking up, not really caring about who had joined me. But then a familiar smell got my nose, something...flowery. There shouldn't have been anything distinct about it. But there was. I looked up to find the blonde that filled my thoughts standing beside me, trying to avoid my gaze. "You didn't call," I simply said to her.

She turned quickly, her forehead wrinkling at the sound of my voice. She was more dressed up now, khakis and a white button up that did more to show off her slim frame, a beautiful body. "Derek?" she finally managed to say, confusion dripping from my name. And yet somehow, I didn't think my name had ever sounded better.

"So you do remember," I answered lightly, smiling at her while I drank her in. She looked fresher now, less frazzled, less stressed. And the lightness suited her.

"What," her voice caught and she cleared her throat softly, turning her back on me again. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here. Head of neurosurgery," I answered, fighting to keep the usual cockiness out of my voice. Most women were impressed by my title. Of course most women didn't ignore me, didn't not call me. Meredith was different.

"Oh," she breathed softly and then let out a soft chuckle. "That must be why you're wearing the scrubs. I mean, normal people don't wear scrubs, do they? Of course not. Doctors wear scrubs. Nurses too, I guess. So I guess you wearing scrubs would mean you work here."

She was rambling. Full out rambling. And it was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. The way she wringed her hands, the way her eyes widened in nervousness. The rambling was adorable. I chuckled softly myself. "I could wear scrubs even if I wasn't a doctor. I mean, I look good in scrubs."

"Yeah, you do," she said and then her eyes widened even more in full on panic. "I mean, better than most people. Most people look terrible in scrubs. I, for one, would probably look absolutely terrible in scrubs. So you look better than most people. I need to stop, I really do. I ramble, when I'm nervous. Or something. And, yes, you look better in scrubs. I mean, better than most people, not better than normal."

I bit back a laugh. Laughter would not help in this situation, I didn't need her thinking I was laughing at her. I allowed my eyes to sweep up and down her body, taking in all the tiny details. The way her khakis rested snuggly on her hips, the way her shirt hugged her breasts, the way her hair curled softly against her shoulders. "Somehow I think you'd look good in anything," I replied honestly, surprised at the breathlessness in my voice.

"Oh," it's all she could say as she turned to look at me. She was blushing a little and she took a step closer to me, the flowery scent becoming even more pronounced. "Derek, we can't do this. We can't. You can't. I can't. Do this."

"Oh," I responded echoing her quietly, raising my eyebrows suggestively. "What is it exactly that we can't do?"

"This," she brushed her hand through the air, an exquisite hand with beautiful, long fingers. "You know. Flirting. We can't do that."

"And why not?" I asked her, fighting the urge to reach over and brush aside the strand of hair that had fallen into her face.

"Because," she took a deep breath as she looked up into my eyes. Her eyes were an exquisite green, light, beautiful, so full of emotion. And right now, they were scared. "Because it's wrong. Very bad. And, well, I don't know you."

"You could know me," I said, not pulling my eyes away from her beautiful ones as I gently took a step towards her, hoping she wouldn't pull away, satisified when she remained where she was standing. "Getting to know me could be fun, Meredith. You could give it a try."

She was blushing now, the red painting her pale cheeks, giving her a porcelain doll-like appearance. "Derek," she sighed as she took another step closer, beginning to close in the distance between our bodies.

"Meredith," I said, giving her a small half smile as I took a step closer. Our bodies were inches apart now, that flowery smell that she carried with her enveloped me, bringing the butterflies back with it. There was something about her.

Suddenly, she pushed me against the wall of the elevator, her lips meeting mine in a passionate, unbridled display of what I thought was affection. Or sexual attraction. Whatever it was, she had me pinned against the wall, and I responded the only way I really knew how, turning the tables and pinning her small body against the wall, my fingers moving through out her hair as I kissed her, hard. She let out a small moan as I pressed harder against her, giving my tongue the perfect opportunity to delve into her mouth, earnestly meeting hers, as I explored and tasted the petite blonde that I couldn't get out my head. Her body felt good against mine, her mouth felt good against mine. Our lips smashed together. Her hands found my hair, gently tugging on it, I let a small growl escape my mouth. Somehow, I ended up back against the wall as she gripped onto my curls, her tongue dueling with mine for power. She tasted good. She tasted right. She tasted better than I thought she could. And in a moment, it was over.

"Wh...wh...what?" I sputtered out, stumbling over my own words, my heart beat roaring in my ears as I gasped to get my breathing back to normal, as I watched her search the elevator with her eyes, as if she was hoping an emergency exit would suddenly materialize. "What?"

"We can't," she panted. "We can't do that. No. We cannot do that. Could these elevators be any slower?"

I ran my fingers through my now disheveled hair trying my best not to get frustrated with the beautiful panicked creature standing in front of me. "Mer, why can't we do this?" I asked her and she just kept looking away, looking at the numbers on top of the door, willing the elevator to go faster. A thought suddenly crossed my mind. "You don't have a boyfriend, do you?"

"A what?" she turned to me, the blush slowly fading from her face. "No, no. I don't. No boyfriend. And well, Derek, you really don't want to do this. Not with me. Really, you don't." She stared at me, her eyes practically begging me to leave this alone, to leave her alone.

And I would, I didn't force girls to go out with me, I didn't pressure uninterested girls, but uninterested girls didn't kiss me like she just had. I couldn't leave this alone when her lips were still red and swollen from my kisses. "I know what I want," I said shrugging slightly at her, smiling to keep the words as light and casual as possible.

"I am so not what you want," she insisted, but before I could press her further, the elevator pinged and she smiled gratefully and started to walk out, before turning back to me. "It was, uh, nice seeing you again, Derek." It was politeness. Pure politeness. She didn't look like it had been nice seeing me again, she looked like she wanted to run as far away as possible.

"Call me?" I said to her retreating back. The words sounded lame even on my own lips, but I had to give it that one last effort, one last try. One more push to hope that she would actually call me. Because I wasn't quite sure I could walk away quite as easily as she had.

"Something in your eyes makes me want to lose myself…"