"I cut the L.V.A.D. wire."

"Actually, I cut the L.V.A.D. wire."

"No, I did it. I'm the one who cut the wire."

"Don't listen to them. It's obvious I cut the wire. I have guilt all over my face."

Nudge.

"Fine. I cut the L.V.A.D. wire."

"I didn't do anything. I'm totally innocent."

Leave it to Alex Karev to ruin a well thought-out plan by opening his mouth and saying the wrong thing.

The five of us explode in rage towards the sixth member, each one of us regretting ever letting him join the plan.

"People!" Chief Webber shouts over us. "I know who did this. I know. So you might as well come clean."

We all respond simultaneously again, resuming our earlier argument. But to our surprise, instead of firing us like a normal program director would, he assigns the six of us to a single patient: Camille Travis.

Izzie, however, leaves to visit Denny seeing as he left her with the idea of marriage.

"Camille Travis is a kid with cancer." George flips through the chart. "So, we give her whatever she wants for a couple days. How hard can that be?"

"Harder than you might think."

Dr. Bailey approaches with two young girls behind her.

"This is Claire and Natalie." She introduces them.

"Her very best friends in the whole wide world." The one to the right replies.

"Girls." Bailey resumes. "Who exactly is Camille Travis?"

Natalie replies. "Like, the Chief of Surgery's niece."

"And girls, what does the Chief of Surgery's niece want, exactly?"

"Like, a prom."

"No. Like, the best prom ever."

In the conference room, George and Alex take down notes of every idea — no matter how stupid — Natalie and Claire come up with. Meanwhile, Meredith, Cristina, and I speak in hushed whispers outside.

"I didn't like teenage girls when I was a teenage girl."

"I wore a lot of black."

"I was prom queen and head cheerleader."

The two stare in my direction with raised brows.

"Yeah, now me hates then me." I shake my head. "God, the night of prom, my date wanted to shag in the back of his '78 Pontiac."

Meredith lightly smiles to herself. "I had the whole angry pink hair thing going on, so I wouldn't have been caught dead at a prom."

"Oh, my mother made me go." Cristina intertwines her fingers. "My date barfed on my dress and then tried to feel me up."

When the guys struggle to understand girl talk, Bailey interferes.

"Silver and white. It's mystical and magical without being over the top. No matter what color the clothes are, they pop."

"They pop?"

"They pop."

"Sounds good. Yeah, I like that."

Once the color scheme for the prom has been picked, Bailey yet again assigns us our tasks for the event: George and Alex are in charge of the balloons, Yang is in charge of keeping Camille happy, and Meredith and I need to rope-off a space in the hospital and decide the food.

"Mer? I found all of the catering menus in the lounge."

With the stack of pamphlets in my arms, I round the corner, searching for Meredith, when I bump into. . .Derek.

"Leven."

"Sorry, Derek, but I'm a bit busy."

"Doing what?"

"Preparing for the prom."

"Prom?"

I glance up at him. "Chief's making us throw a prom for his niece since she couldn't leave the hospital and missed hers."

"Don't you think we should talk about —"

"Whatever you or I felt in that room. . .it was a mistake."

"Leven." Meredith calls out to me from the opposite end of the hallway. "Patricia said we can use the second-floor nurses' station and the waiting area."

My gaze tears away from him. "I'll be right there." She rushes off to the mentioned area. "I'm sorry, Derek. There's nothing we can do."

Regardless of what Chief Webber had said, each of us are called into his office, one by one, to be interrogated about what had happened last night.

Once we finish with the decorations, Meredith and I leave for her house, looking through her dresses to find any two that would work. I end up finding a satin green one, soft and delicate to the touch.

But the dropped shoulder sleeves and deep neckline would do nothing to hide my pacemaker.

"Leven, you look stunning."

"The pacemaker doesn't ruin it, does it?"

"Not at all."

So. . .we head to prom.

Meredith walks ahead of me as I tighten the strap of my painful heels. Whoever made these deathtraps clearly didn't have women in mind.

"Well, you look great, Leven." Dr. Dandridge greets me with a friendly embrace. "Green really is your color."

"Did Meredith tell you about me being dateless?" I fiddle with the strap of my watch. "And that I'm your third-wheel for the evening?"

Meredith joins us. "I did, yes. And neither of us mind."

"But don't worry. I'll stay out of the way when a slow song starts." I slip my hands deep into the dress pockets.

As if on cue, a new song begins, and the couples disperse through the dance floor before rocking to the rhythm of the music. I situate myself by the food table, snacking on a few cheese cubes and a large cup of fruit punch.

From across the room, I notice a pair of striking blue eyes carefully watching me. They belong to none other than Derek Shepherd.

The lights magically dim low, and my pulse quickens.

Like many times before. . .it's just the two of us. No one else but us.

My steps stagger backwards when I notice him whisper something into Addison's ear and pull away from her.

I quicken my pace towards the nearest on-call room, a place I have yet to see. The tips of my heels click with every frantic step.

"Leven."

"Go away."

"Leven —"

Slam!

Shutting the door behind myself, I press my back against the door. A swift knock sounds from the other end, followed by:

"Leven, let me in." His voice is velvety and smooth.

"Derek, can't you just leave me to myself?" I practically beg him.

"I just want to make sure you're alright."

Unwillingly, I open the door and let him in. He closes the door behind himself before stopping to stand across from me.

"First, you stare at me because I'm dying."

"Leven —"

"Then you pretend to be nice and care about me."

"Hey —"

"Before labeling me as a whore in your head."

"Come on —"

"And now you're back to staring at me, except. . .it's different." My fingers unfasten the heels before taking them off. "And I don't know why."

"Are you done?"

"Yeah. Your turn."

His voice strains against his throat. "The moment you came into my life, I haven't stopped looking at you."

My hands clutch the edges of my elbows.

"From then on. . .you've been a breath of fresh air. It was like I was drowning. . .and you're the one who saved me."

Tears prick the corner of my eyes.

"And I don't want to look at you because I have a wife."

He squeezes the examination chair, which inadvertently causes his knuckles to pale.

"But she doesn't drive me crazy." His head shakes. "No, she isn't the one on my mind 24-7. She doesn't make me feel like I'd rather die than spend another second without her."

Finally, he walks around the chair to stop behind me, the heat radiating off of him.

"I would give anything. . .to not be looking at you."

"You're not supposed to fall in love with a woman who's dying."

"Well, it's too late for that, now, isn't it?"

My fingers clutch his black tie, and I pull him into me. His hands palm against the side of my hips to stabilize himself.

"What does this mean, Leven?"

"I don't know. . .but is it bad that I want to figure it out?"

"No."

Before I can reply, our lips lock in an emotional kiss, the two of us finally letting loose. Unlike last night, this one is more desperate. . .more desirous.

Before either of us can deepen the kiss and take it one step further, the door swings open.

Callie Torres, a resident from orthopedics, gasps at the sight of me and him, but she keeps her composure.

"The nurse told me to look for you. You have to come."

"What happened?"

"It's Izzie."