"Am I keeping you, O'Malley?"

George looks up from his cellphone, instantly hanging up whatever call he was about to make at the stern sound of our resident.

She clasps her hands together. "M&M in fifteen minutes, people."

"Woah, woah, woah. We get to go to an M&M?"

"Even if we haven't finished our rounds?"

"Even if." Bailey nods her head. "I want all of you at the M&M today."

Alex releases a joyful grunt, happy to take a break away from working with the restrictive OB/GYN, Dr. Addison Montgomery-Shepherd.

"People die in this hospital. On our watch." The five of us back up into a corner. "Once a month, we gather to discuss how our actions as physicians contributed to the deaths. This is a very serious exercise."

Before she can yell at us for one reason or another, a family walks up to her. We crowd around into a circle and talk in hushed whispers.

"George, Alex, you get good seats."

"Cristina, Mer, and I are on snack duty."

"Sounds good."

"Focus, people." Cristina snaps her fingers. "Insults flying, residents covering their asses, and our bosses getting kicked in the teeth instead of us. . .this is going to be great." And she runs off to the cafeteria.

My tired eyes widen when Meredith pulls me in her direction. We gather a plethora of snacks and drinks before entering the auditorium space.

"Okay, people. Let's begin."

Chief Webber begins the slideshow presentation of patients.

"Patient #34986 died last month from complications following a heart transplant." He briefs the first case. "Dr. Burke will present."

"Oh, no."

"You guys. . ."

"Isn't patient #34986. . ."

"It's Denny."

"Eight million dollars could get us on a plane to somewhere far, far away."

The chief of surgery sits in a chair on the stage as Dr. Burke steps up to the podium, printed papers in his hand.

"Cause of death was an embolus that dislodged from the suture line and caused a C.V.A. with brain stem herniation."

A few hands from all across the audience shoot up into the air.

"So the company line is that he died from a C.V.A.?"

"There is no company line. That's how he died."

Another speaks. "Let's get back to this patient's need for an emergent transplant. You're saying the patient's left ventricle had been weakened by the L.V.A.D. malfunction?"

"His left ventricle was weakened by the fact that he suffered from congestive heart failure."

"Come on, Dr. Burke." The third attending states. "We all know the L.V.A.D. was cut by an intern."

Soon, Dr. Bailey takes the stand after a peaceful riot from the same doctor. The five of us cower from the invisible spotlight, realizing exactly why she'd invited us to the M&M.

One particular attending, Dr. Matthew Savoy, questions Bailey about her sleeping habits now that she has a baby to take care of and her lack of authority towards her interns — us.

When the conference ends, I stumble down the stairs to resume work. But before I can make it all the way, I cross paths with Derek.

"Leven."

"Derek."

"You look great."

"So do you."

His fingers creep up the rail to touch mine before he grasps my hand. I smile lightly before nodding my head.

"I have to get back to work. But I need to talk to you later."

"The divorce was finalized."

"What?"

"As of this morning. . .I'm a single man."

"Duly noted, Dr. Shepherd."

Walking past him, I run down the rest of the staircase. But not before looking back to see him standing on the same step and watching me dreamily.

Things are looking. . .well.

"Dr. Phoenix."

Addison Montgomery walks out of a patient's room. Through the slit of the window in the door, I notice a woman on top of a man.

"Are they having sex in there?"

"They were. Now they're just fighting."

"Can I help you with something?"

"I need you to get an x-ray."

"An x-ray? Of them?"

"The quicker you do it, the sooner it'll be over."

Once I maneuver them into the x-ray room and get the films, I take a look at them for myself.

But when I hold them up to the light, a dark shadow appears.

"Are you free to talk now?"

"Shepherd, are you following me?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Not at all." But his grin says otherwise. "Back to my question: are you free to talk now?"

"Is this x-ray blurry?" I pass him the first film.

"What exactly am I looking at?"

"Divorced couple stuck in missionary."

"I deserved that, didn't I?" His lips curl down in repulsion.

"It's what you get for following me around the hospital." I smirk in victory. "So, are they blurry? Do you think I need to retake them?"

The first two fingers of my right hand cross behind my back as a nervous expression fills my face.

"I think the films are clear as day."

"Oh, thank God."

"So, when did you want to talk?" His elbows lean against the counter, an eager and hopeful look on his face.

"How about tonight?"

"Just give me a time and a place."

"Eight o' clock, my apartment."

Derek draws closer to me, his face mere inches away from my own. With a faint kiss to the cheek, he leaves.

Evening cannot come soon enough, but the next time I see him isn't as joyful.

"I don't think I'm going to make it to dinner tonight."

So I pull the trigger to the emergency alarm of the elevator. It shuts off, and the lights dim low. I turn my body to face him and start talking.

"I hate to admit it. . .but there's a small possibility I like you, too."

Wordlessly, he stares up at the floor numbers.

"It may even be love. . .I don't know." The hairs of my neck stick upright. "But I want to know because I don't want to make the wrong choice and miss out on what could last for a long time."

His head tilts down to stare at the floor.

"But before we take this step. . .I want to make sure there's no regrets."

"She had a relationship with him."

I look up.

"My ex-wife had a relationship with my ex-best friend. . .and she waited until after the divorce to tell me."

My back rests against the wall. "God, Derek. . ."

"No regrets." His teary eyes move away from the numbers and stop on me. "I have no regrets for my feelings, Leven."

The breath I'd been holding releases in relief, and I walk towards him. My fingers pull the trigger of the alarm, but his hand stops me.

"Just wait a moment. . ."

"Okay."

His arm circles my waist, and for once. . .I feel no regrets. I let my fingers interlock behind the nape of his neck.

"I have your wristwatch. From the night of the prom."

"How did you —"

"It was stuck to my coat when I came home."

From within his pocket, he pulls out the thin, leather wristwatch. I take it back with a grateful smile, just happy to have it back.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Well, nothing stopped you from kissing me before."

And in the midst of it all. . .our lips touch.