Hey and thanks to those reading. :)

There's no explanation behind it, except that maybe someone somewhere hates Derek, but Mark is in Seattle. The visit is supposedly just a flying one- but one Derek can't figure out the reason for, because he knows Mark wouldn't dare try an apology this soon after.

Finishing up in a patients' room is when he catches that first glimpse of Mark. Unluckily for Mark, Derek had already mentally sworn to deck his former best friend one if he ever saw him again. However, it's in the hospital, at work, so doing that now wouldn't look at all good. But, even more unluckily for Mark, he happens to be talking to the one person that would and does send him into a rage- and it isn't the person legally called his wife.

And furthermore, Mark doesn't talk to women. Mark flirts and Mark flirts with the intention of getting the other party to drop their pants.

There's blood and adrenaline and rage and jealousy and about a thousand other emotions coursing through Derek so it's not until his fit actually connects with Mark's jaw that he realises he forgot that that punch might actually be painful to his hand.

Meredith looks mad and confused, Addison is hanging open-mouthed, Richard has his angry "what the hell" face on and plenty of other hospital personnel and patients are watching on both shocked and amused and grateful to be first-hand witness to what is going to be the day's gossip.

Not five minutes later and Derek is sitting before the Chief, nursing a swollen hand, avoiding both the eyes of his boss and embarrassed wife.

He hates Addison again.

Sure, maybe it wasn't her fault that Mark turned up and that Mark flirted with Meredith, but if she hadn't spread her legs to his best friend in the first place, maybe he wouldn't know how much hurt it was possible to feel.

"Put the damn ice on your two million a year hand." Richard snaps. "Now, would someone tell me what the hell happened?"

"That was Mark." Addison says quietly.

"Who's Mark?"

"He and Derek used to work together back in New York. And they- we- were all close friends… until Derek found us in bed together."

Just the words again are enough to make Derek nauseous. He drops his head.

There's a pause and then Richard asks: "Did you put your weight behind it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well alright then."

Both Derek and Addison leave the office, Derek turning on his heel and storming away the minute they've shut the door.

***

It's rare, especially at this time of day, but thankfully, Derek has managed to find an empty room. It's in the basement and he knows from Meredith's love of escaping down here that you can barely be disturbed in place. It's exactly what he needs now- a short time to think and to nurse his wounds, with no distraction or interruptions. No fucking wives harassing him, no so-called friends trying to win back your graces, no patients or families or fellow doctors unable to keep to themselves for ten minutes.

There's a quick vibration against his hipbone; his phone sitting on his waistband bleeping a text message.

I'm looking everywhere and I give up. Where are you?

For a minute he considers ignoring it, because he's doesn't want to be and isn't going to be good company for anyone right now. But he craves and replies, letting in on his hiding place.

Two minutes later, there's a soft rap on the other side of the door before it is pushed open. It's closed just as quietly and the whole room feels thick with awkwardness.

"I should've guessed you could be down here," Meredith says. "I poked my head down the corridor, I don't know why I didn't check better."

She slides into a chair next to him, swivelling it around a small degree so her body faces him more than the table it sits at. He shouldn't, but he can't help but want her even closer. Last night closer.

"I can't believe you punched him," She revels, breaking the silence. After they'd sat there for nearly five minutes saying nothing, she couldn't stand it another minute. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't." He'd seen Mark, seen him next to Meredith and immediately seen red.

"You could've been in so much trouble for this," She whispers.

He shrugs. "I don't care." He replies quietly.

"Well, you shouldn't have done it," She says. "But… for the record, if I'd been in your shoes, I'd have done the same thing. Maybe slapped though. But he deserved it so, you did the right thing in that regards."

"Thanks."

She scoots closer. "Is your hand ok?"

He shrugs. "It's swollen. Bruised a little."

"Can I?" Not waiting for his answer, she lifts the icepack off his hand, biting her lip when she sees his bruises.

Her touch drives him mad. His hand is cold, a little numb from the ice, and the warmth from her hand spreads through his hand, through him, like a wildfire. Her fingers are delicate, tracing over the little purple marks on his knuckles. He's mostly focused on her hand on his, but through his peripheral vision he can see the frown on her face. She's not happy about the state of his hand. And as much as she doesn't want to be, she's not happy he's hurting.

All he wants to do is flip his hand over so he can hold hers instead. Can't. Shouldn't. Desperately wants to. She's staring at his hand, at the bruises, with such intensity and worry that it's all he can do stop himself leaning in, kissing her, and taking her breath away. Again, like he did last night, in her bedroom. When he was reminded just how much Meredith Grey meant to him and had the ability to tilt his world on it's axis a little.

Meredith puts the icepack back on his hand and then sandwiches it between both of hers. She holds it tight. Not tight that it hurts, but tight that he thinks she's not letting go. She holds it tight like it's hers to hold.

"Mark says…" She begins slowly, "that you hit him because you saw him talking to me. But I say it's because you hadn't seen him since you left NY, since you caught him… well, you know. And that hitting him was the natural, deserved, reaction." One thumb is rubbing his hand. Does she realize she's doing it? Does she realize she shouldn't? Does she realize that, if she stopped now and pulled her hands away, Derek would reach for them back? He's missed her touch and up until last night he hadn't been conscious of how much he craved it.

"I need you to tell me it's the latter, Derek." She whispers.

Derek is silent. Punching Mark was his natural reaction. If there'd been nobody around, if Meredith hadn't been so close, he'd have tried beating Mark to a pulp. And it would've been deserved. What best friend sleeps with your wife, then dares to come out to Seattle for… for what? What had he come out here for?

But seeing Mark with Meredith was what pushed Derek over the edge. And he knew Mark, Meredith didn't- Mark wasn't talking to her, Mark didn't talk to women. He flirted and he'd been flirting with Meredith. Derek's blood had boiled seeing it then, and it boiled again when he thought about it now. Mark had always had a habit of going after what was Derek's and like hell Derek would stand there and let him go after Meredith. The thought made him sick.

Meredith turned her head to look at him and he knew he had to answer.

He's already lied to Meredith enough in time he's known her. It doesn't matter if she doesn't ever give him another chance; if he ever wants her to have the smidgen of trust in him; he's got to tell her the truth. He might as well start now. And he'll take the consequences as they come.

"Tell me it's the latter," She says again.

He shakes his head. "I can't."

She sighs, nodding slowly as she processes that. He takes a chance, leans to his side and rests his head on her shoulder. He can't describe the relief when she doesn't shrug him off, or tell him no.

"Sorry about your hand." Meredith tilts her head down too, resting against the top his. She holds his hand now, fingers curled around his. They sit there for an indefinite amount of time, in silence, until George barges in (how had he found them?), mutters a startled 'oh!' at finding them like this, then informs them that Addison is looking for Derek, has been for a while, and is getting more irked by the minute.

***

It's been a day that only a word such as 'hell' could describe; Derek is more than ready for it to be over and done with. It's one thing for Mark to show up, unannounced and all charming and flirty and only slightly remorseful and then to flirt with Meredith, but the man is now interfering in on Derek's patient, contradicting Derek left, right and centre. And his patient, not even out of his teenager years, passes away on the table in the end too, so. The day can't get much worse in Derek's opinion.

So it's not only been a hellish day, but a hellish week too. First it was Meredith and the bomb, now it's Mark… everywhere. And all through this crap, seeing Meredith- whether it's sitting in an empty room with her for half an hour in a more than comfortable silence or just saying a fleeting 'hey' when he passes her, is what is making it a little more bearable.

It shouldn't be like this. Not really. Not when he has a wife and marriage that he's supposed to be trying to make work. But he can't help it. Meredith nearly dying shook him up more than he realized and all he wants now is to be closer to her and give her some of the comfort too that she provides him. And by some incredible miracle, the bomb incident seems to have Meredith more willing to be near him than before when he'd become the boyfriend who'd hidden having a wife.

Derek ignores that he's being hunted by Satan, as he is back to referring to her again. In his head. Not to her face- that'll just cause more unneeded agro later. He doesn't see either his supposed wife or former best friend until he's finished work and leaving, thankfully.

It's almost like they've cornered him as he waits for the elevator, and Addison is whining, frustrated at Derek's rudeness towards her. Mark is ignorant enough to ask why Derek can forgive Addison, but not him.

"I haven't forgiven her." Derek says, ignoring the color drain from Addison's face. "And with you, I have no obligation to try."

Once he's in the elevator, he pulls out his phone, dialing Meredith's number. He needs to hear her voice so he can breathe easy again.

She answers just as he's about to hang up. He asks if she's ok first, trying to keep the conversation away from him so he doesn't have to admit how awful and near breaking point he feels.

"Are you doing anything at the moment, I'm going to head to Joes and I want… I want to buy you a drink." He tells her that, instead of telling her he wants, he craves her company. For her to sit there and drown her sorrows alongside him.

"Uh, I'm not… I'm out, I'm busy. But I'll let you know when I'm done if you want. We'll still get that drink."

He senses something in her voice and her words that she's not going to tell him what she's busy with, and he's curious, but he won't push it. If she wants to tell him she'll tell him.

"Ok," He says, trying to keep the disappointment at not seeing her immediately out of his voice. "Talk to you later then."

"See you, Derek."

She disconnects the line instantly.