You’d already met most of Derek’s friends. After all, you tagged along sometimes when they went out for drinks—Cristina, Meredith, Alex, George... They’d gotten used to seeing you around, laughing with them like you belonged there too.

George was always especially kind to you. Always remembering your drink, always finding a way to sit near you, always saying something that made you smile even when your day had been a disaster.

You were starting to like him. Maybe more than like him.

And Derek noticed.

One night, after your usual bar meetup, he pulled George aside outside, hands in his pockets, trying to look casual but failing miserably.

—“I swear, O'Malley,” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “If you're thinking of falling for my sibling, you better mean it. I don’t want to see their heart broken. I know you. You're kind. You're soft. But if you even think about hurting them—”

George blinked.

—“I wasn’t— I mean, I wasn’t going to—”

Derek held up a hand.

—“Just... don’t be stupid about it. If you fall, fall all the way. If you start something, finish it right.”

You didn’t hear the conversation. Derek came back to the table like nothing had happened, sliding into his seat beside Meredith. You smiled at him, unaware.

George, though, made a quiet detour. He went to the bar, leaned in, and ordered your favorite drink—he remembered—then walked back with it in hand.

He sat down next to you like he belonged there, placed the drink in front of you without a word, and gave you a small, nervous smile.