Author's Notes: I did something that I don't think they'd ever do on TV: I gave them space. Mind you, I had to limit the amount of space I gave them to what I saw as believable. I don't think that two people with as much chemistry as Meredith and Derek can work together for too long without something happening. They're too volatile.

Chapter Four: "Yesterday"

It's been six months since Derek and I broke up. Well, we were "broken up" before that, but it's been six months since we really broke up. I don't know if he's dating the nurse; I haven't heard any rumours about it. I think I would have heard if he was. If he's dating anyone else, it looks like he's kept his word about not parading it in front of me. We're still not friends, but we work well together. He requested me on a few important cases and I think we made a great team. There's none of that subtext and undertone crap this time. We're giving each other space.

Still, there are looks sometimes, when something sparks my memory or his of this thing or that. We had a patient who had burst an aneurysm when she slipped and fell in the shower while she and her boyfriend were trying out a particularly acrobatic position. It was a perfect combination of Derek's two specialities: neuroscience, and shower sex.

He didn't request me on that one, but as luck would have it, Bailey assigned me to his case. I've always had that kind of luck.

We spent the entire time biting our lips or cheeks and avoiding extended eye contact. I'm sure we'll laugh about it later. Someday.

Cristina, Izzie and I started going to a yoga class with really odd hours. It's a much better way to channel our general rage and as a side-effect, I look and feel better than I have since I started my residency. After what happened between the three of us and Burke, George and Derek, we made a pact. We are women and we are strong. We are going to be seriously kick-ass surgeons. We don't need men except when we want them, and we decide where and how.

So here's the thing. It's been months since I last had sex and it's been a long time since I've got that long without it. A long time. Cristina is in the same boat, and Izzie, she just needs to feel wanted. Things haven't really been settled between her and George, but they're doing the friends thing which means they're not doing the sex thing. Sometimes a girl just wants to flirt and be flirted with.

It would be so much easier if we liked women.

Wow, I really need to get laid.

We can't pick up guys at yoga. The men in our yoga class are the kind of men who go to yoga classes with really odd hours: weirdos, overworking businessmen, doctors and lawyers. No doctors. And as people who are committed to saving lives, we can't possibly touch lawyers. The businessmen have to be reminded by our instructor to remove their Bluetooth headsets. And don't even get me started on the weirdos. Also, I'm pretty sure that if we took a survey, about half of the men would say they aren't interested, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, we decided last night that we are bringing hot outfits to work and we're going to wear them to Joe's after our shift. Okay, Joe's isn't the best place to meet people we don't work with, but it almost feels like betrayal to give some other bartender our hard-earned money.

So we enter the bar and I don't think I'm imagining that there are people turning to watch us as we walk to an empty table. Cristina looks hot, Izzie looks hot, we look hot.

It's not long before drink offers are piling up and we're laughing and having a good time with... I don't know. James or something. John? And his friend, Matt. Or is it Mike? I'm not going to guess the third guy's name.

They're okay. They're young, and good-looking, and we don't recognize them, so they'll do for tonight. They say they're from Vancouver and they wanted a real Seattle experience so they ended up in this small bar. Whatever, it doesn't make sense to me either, but they're from Vancouver which means they're not from here.

Something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. Mark is making fun of Dr. Hahn's dart game (I hope she realizes that he won't give up until she sleeps with him) and Derek and Callie are watching from a booth in the corner. Well, Callie is watching them. Derek is watching me.

He looks great tonight, in a dark red sweater and white collared shirt. Probably has on dark jeans and shiny black shoes under the table.

And we'd been doing so well with the invisible boundaries thing.

I raise my shot glass to him and he raises his tumbler in return.

My attention is brought back to my present company by Izzie's loud laugh at something whatshisname said. Cristina looks like she wants to injure someone -- she's never been good at the pre-sex part. I lick the salt I sprinkled on my hand earlier, down my shot, and bite down hard on a slice of lime.

I didn't really keep up with fresh produce in college, so I developed a taste for straight tequila out of necessity. I regained my love of proper tequila shots when Lexie brought limes to my house the night of the "dance party". We have a tentative friendship now. New Meredith isn't holding Lexie responsible for her fucked up childhood.

Izzie cackles again, and Cristina shoots her a look that could kill.

I think I need to leave this table. "I'm going up to the bar to get another drink." Matt/Mike moves too, but I tell him to stay and get up on my own.

Unsurprisingly, Derek meets me at the bar. "Another, Joe. And for her, too," he says, gesturing to me. Joe fills our orders right away and places the drinks in front of us. I'm just drunk enough to know that he smells really good, and that I can't think of any good reason not to do this. I reach for his hand and lick the back of it before shaking some salt on it. He watches me with interest as I lick the salt off, grab the shot and swallow it back. I look down for the lime wedge, but he pulls my chin towards him and places it in my mouth, his fingers lingering for a second or two before he pulls his hands back.

He laughs softly. "Are we in college? Did I step into a time machine instead of Joe's bar?"

I just shake my head and catch Joe's attention. "Vodka tonic, please." I want something to sip.

But Derek's question sparked my curiosity. "What were you like in college? Undergrad, I mean, before med school."

He places his drink down and looks like he's really thinking about it. "I studied very hard, went to all my classes, and did extra-credit work when I could. And I never met a girl who wanted licked salt off my body parts."

Somehow, I'm not that surprised. "You missed out."

"Apparently," he agrees. He opens his mouth to continue but he stops. I turn my body towards him (open body language -- see, I know some things about social interaction) and he goes on. "I was, what you might call, a late bloomer. Mark has been... He's been Mark his whole life, but I didn't grow into my looks until the end of med school. Maybe it was from the all-nighters that made me skip shaving some days, but women suddenly found me very attractive."

Or one in particular. "Addison was one of those women."

He takes another sip before answering. "Yeah," he says after swallowing, "she was. Getting Addison was a huge boost for my ego. I thought she was way out of my league. My undergrad was from CUNY and hers was from NYU. I had to pay for med school with a huge amount of debt and she was a real Manhattan girl, up to and including the Fifth Avenue wardrobe. But she didn't take it for granted. She was brilliant and worked harder than any of us."

I don't feel a shred of jealousy at his reverent tone. I actually kind of wish I could have seen them back then.

He's looking down at his drink and I know he wants to ask.

I throw him a bone. "I let my mother pay for college. I figured it was the least she could do, since I didn't want to go. I rebelled in some ways, but I listened to her when it mattered. I was always a good student. So I applied to all the Ivy League schools and accepted at Dartmouth because it was away from home, but not too far, and it was small. Cozy. Anyway, getting away from her was a bit of a shock to my system. I drank a lot, I slept with a lot of inappropriate boys --"

He raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything.

"And when it came to studying, I just took full advantage of my ability to pick things up really quickly."

I wonder if we'd be having this conversation if it wasn't for the alcohol. I swallow half my drink before I continue.

"I applied to med school because that's what she wanted me to do, and I didn't really have a better plan for myself. After I got my confirmation, I started feeling really caged. I fought hard with her and then I called the school and they told me that I could defer my start for three years. So I emptied out my trust fund and took off to Europe." Derek knows what's coming and his eyes soften. He's wearing what some might call the McDreamy look. "Two months later, I called home and my mother told me very calmly that she'd been diagnosed with Alzheimer's and that I should come back to Boston immediately."

He grabs my hand and holds it. I'm surprised that I'm not fighting the urge to pull it away.

"I should go back to my friends," I say, nodding towards the table I vacated earlier.

He stands and pulls me up with him. "Let me drive you home tonight."

I search his eyes for his motives, but, well, there's that whole negative correlation thing involving alcohol consumption and my ability to read him. But I still feel safe with him. He has the power to shatter me into a million pieces but he'll protect me like a bulldog from anything else. "Okay."

-----

He turns up the heat as soon as he starts the car because he knows I like it warm. Some song by the Clash is quietly playing on the speakers and it's the only noise in the car aside from the engine and the turn signal.

We arrive at my house. It's empty, or at least dark. George usually sleeps in the one of the living rooms now, but I think he's working. Who knows where Alex is.

Derek walks me to the door and stands in front of me for a moment. He lowers his head to mine and I'm expecting a kiss, but instead he swipes my left cheek with his lips. He lingers there and I can feel his breath on my ear. "You look amazing tonight," he whispers, before pulling back and returning to his car.

I stare after him, not knowing what to make of what just happened. He starts his car and backs out of the driveway before I start rifling through my purse for the keys.

This is not helping my sexual frustration.

-----

I leave Meredith's feeling better than I have in a long time. I almost want to turn my car around and share it with her, but I won't. Meredith and I, we never talked. We spent a lot of time together because of some intangible, indescribable thing that we made each other feel, and we had really great sex, but we never really talked. It was my fault the first time. Almost everything that had been a part of my life had to do with my being married and I didn't want to deal with it. When we got back together after my divorce, we just talked about not having sex until we did. And then we were back to having sex and not talking.

When we tried the ban on sex last time, we weren't built for it. We were treating the symptom but not its cause. We should have known better, but we couldn't see it when we were in it. Doctors make the worst patients, after all.

I didn't plan on approaching her tonight. We'd gone months treating each other with comfortable aloofness and it was going well. We didn't touch, or make any inappropriate personal comments, or ask about our lives outside the hospital. And for the first time since the first time, I saw her for who she was, not what I wanted her to be.

She's not Meredith, future wife and mother of my children, or whatever I was trying to mold her into... she's Meredith, an intelligent, beautiful woman who's still haunted by broken past. And I'm part of that past. I'm part of her abandonment issues and fear of trust. I get that now.

And I still want things, but I want them with her. So, my plan is to stand back. I'll let her know that I'm here, but I'll stand back and let her figure out what she wants, and hope she still wants me.

Tonight? Tonight wasn't part of the plan, but she looked so incredible and I couldn't stop myself. And we talked. I learned more about her tonight than I would have in weeks of sleeping with her. And then there was that thing she did, with the shot of tequila, her tongue running over my hand... we could have a lot of fun with that.

I take a deep, calming breath. Mauling her will not help me reach my goals. I'm going home tonight, alone.