"What were you drinking?" Merrick asked as he joined her, placing his hand on her waist in an almost possessive manner as he moved into her space. The heat from his hand against the cool fabric made her shiver. The thought of objecting to his touch never crossed her mind. In fact, she reveled in it.

"Whiskey, neat," Agatha softly said, noting the way his eyes sparked with approval at her choice.

Merrick turned to the bartender and ordered two more, never taking his hand off her, pulling her closer as he leaned in to talk to the bartender.

"Roark Merrick?" Arthur asked, having placed him. Agatha had utterly forgotten about poor Arthur.

Agatha felt Merrick tense in response to Arthur's recognition of him.

"Yes," Merrick nodded, looking at the man. "Are you one of the Brolins?"

Arthur nodded. "I thought you had joined the army?" he asked as he looked from Agatha to Merrick with confusion.

"I'm on leave," he said with a nod to the bartender as he handed Agatha her drink and then excused them both, heading for a private booth on the other side of the room while keeping his hand in the small of her back the entire time. It took Agatha only a second to forget about Arthur as all of her attention focused on the feel of his hand.

He looked down at Agatha, stopping her from sitting with gentle pressure on her arm.

"Are you officially out?" Merrick asked.

"I am. Would you like to see the papers for proof?" She stepped into his space, letting her whole body brush his as she looked up into his dark eyes. He had touched her twice in the space of minutes, and it was something she wanted to encourage. If she was reading his signals right, he was interested, and she wasn't going to be subtle in returning that interest.

He placed his hand in the small of her back once more and pulled her close. "No, it's not necessary. You look beautiful, Agatha. As I'm sure you already know."

"How would I know?" Agatha shrugged. His words meant more than he would ever know. She had dreamed of him saying that very thing for almost two years, but she felt the need to play it cool for self-preservation.

"By the men who automatically surrounded you when you arrived," He took a tendril of hair and played with it, his finger caressing her neck. Agatha felt her legs turn to jelly as goosebumps covered every inch of her skin. Lord, he was something.

"You were watching me?" she asked, her voice husky.

"I was, and so was every man in here." He gave a slow sexy smile. "I was pleased to know that you were here to meet me and to know a side of you that they didn't." He motioned for her to have a seat.

Merrick surprised her by sitting next to her in the booth and not across from her.

"What side is that?" Agatha took a sip of her whiskey with a shaky hand.

"The warrior. The woman who is not afraid to put a doctor in his place while saving hundreds of lives, hold a dying man's hand while singing him a lullaby, and cry over the loss of a friend while pushing forward, and that was all in one day. Oh, and let's not forget the ability to knock back a glass of whiskey without flinching." He lifted his glass in a toast.

Agatha felt her heart rate speed up at the lovely words. He was good, so good that she felt the need to bring her giddy pleasure at his little speech down a notch.

"And don't forget my ability to say the completely wrong thing at the wrong time!" She countered with another toast trying to slow down her erratic heartbeat.

"You do enjoy a good pun, but you are always very accurate with your comments, even the more crass ones," he conceded.

There was a long silence as Agatha thought back over all of their past conversations. The silence lasted so long that she wasn't sure how to break it.

"What are your plans now?" Merrick asked as he turned to face her, rubbing his finger over his lips in a thoughtful way as he looked at her lips. It took all her wits to answer him and break the trance that fell over her when her attention was drawn to his mouth.

"I'll travel a little and see my family, who are spread out all over the world, then I will look for a job." Agatha turned her body to face him. "I thought I would start in Paris. I don't have family there, but I spent time there with my grandmother when I was younger, and I would like to revisit it."

"I always thought Paris was for lovers," he mused as he sipped his whiskey.

"I wouldn't know. I've never been there with a lover." Agatha forced herself to look away from his strong hands and at her glass as an awkward silence descended once more.

"You said you were on leave. What are your plans?" Agatha could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell his cologne. It was as if her body was making up for lost time now that she was allowed to be attracted to him.

"It depends," he hedged as he watched her closely.

Please say Paris! Please say Paris! She pleaded silently.

"Depends on what?" she licked her lips, trying to remain calm.

"On whether you wore that dress for me or not, Agatha." He traced a shoulder strap, forcing her to set her glass down before she sloshed the golden liquid on her dress.

"And if I did?" she asked in a husky voice.

Agatha didn't mind that Merrick was so bold. She got it. He was trying not to be subtle while giving her an easy out if she wanted one. She didn't think it was coming from a place of ego.

"I wore this dress for you, Roark," she confirmed, loving the sound of his name.

He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, and she watched all of his walls come down. "I have wanted you for so long, but I couldn't have you."

"I had hoped that you did, especially over the last month, but when you said you didn't want to be friends..." She shrugged, still hurt by his words. "You are obnoxiously honorable!"

"I was not going to let you friend zone me, Agatha. I don't want you as a friend. I want you as a lover." His voice was hard, almost like the Merrick from the hospital, and it put her back on even footing once more.

"How do you feel about Paris?" she asked, in an overt attempt to let him know she was interested.

"I only have two weeks. It can't be long-term." Roark was honest, and she appreciated that.

"I don't expect it to be." Agatha shook her head.

Their eyes met. This was happening. They would both take what they had wanted for a very long time and then move on. But would it be enough? The way Agatha was currently feeling, She would never have enough of this man.

Roark stood and held out his hand. "Your room or mine?" he asked.

Agatha smiled at his direct question. "Mine, you can take the walk of shame in the morning." Her insides did a little shimmy. She was going to find out if Jenny and Sherry's assertions were correct. At the thought of Jenny, her spirits fell a little.

"What's wrong?" Roark asked, picking up on her change immediately.

"I just thought about Jenny," Agatha explained as she watched him throw down money for the drinks.

"That's an abrupt change." he frowned.

Agatha nodded. "I'll tell you later. I don't want to be sad right now, O.K.?"

"Alright," he agreed, taking her hand and leading her out of the bar and across the lobby.

They reached the elevator and waited, and waited. Agatha felt like she was ready to burst with impatience.

"I'm sorry for the delay. It should only be a few minutes more," the concierge said in passing.

Agatha's impatience matched Roark's, and when he grabbed her hand once more and pulled her to the stairwell, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Took you long enough!" Agatha hissed as he roughly pushed through the door.

"You could have led the way!" He pointed out, dragging her up the first flight.

"I can't drag you like you're dragging me, can I?" Agatha hissed back.

Suddenly, he turned on her, pushing her against the wall and kissing her hard.

It was what she had always wanted him to do when they had one of their disagreements.

"Agatha," he said sometime later when he came up for air, and they were both breathing hard. Agatha's hair was a lost cause as it fell in curls to her shoulders, and he buried his face in her neck. She couldn't stop trembling.

"Roark," she responded, her chest heaving.

"I don't think I can give you as much as you'll need this first time," he admitted.

Agatha's heart jumped at his words.

"For the record, I don't think I need as much as you think I do, but perhaps this first time, we can let Merrick and Stevens have what they've needed for so long, and Agatha and Roark can play catch-up later," she suggested, wiggling against him in an attempt to get him moving once more.

His eyes narrowed at her suggestive shimmy. "Third-person, uh?"

"Whatever works, Doctor Merrick." Her words were all it took.

"After you, Nurse Stevens," he said as he stepped away from her.

She could feel his eyes on her for the rest of the climb to her room.