It's your tiny, ineffectual fists.

"It's not the chase."
"What?"
"You and me. It is not the thrill of the chase. It's not a game. It's... it's your tiny ineffectual fists. And your hair."
"My hair?"
"It smells nice. And you're very, very bossy. It keeps me in line."
"I'm still not going out with you."
"You say that now."

"Hey."

"Hey. You almost died today."

"Yeah, I almost died today."

"I can't, I can't remember our last kiss. All I could think about was, I'm going to die today and I can't remember our last kiss, which is pathetic. But the last time we were together and happy, I... want to be able remember that, and I can't Derek. I can't remember."

"I'm glad you didn't die today... It was a Thursday morning, you were wearing that ratty little "Dartmouth" T-shirt you look so good in, the one with the hole in the back of the neck. You'd just washed your hair and you smelled like some kind of... flower. I was running late for surgery. You said you were going to see me later, and you leaned to me, you put your hand on my chest and you kissed me. Soft. It was quick. Kind of like a habit. You know, like we'd do it everyday for the rest of our lives. And you went back to reading the newspaper and I went to work. That was the last time we kissed."

"Lavender. My hair smelled like lavender... from my conditioner."

"Lavender. Huh."

Shame on me for sometimes forgetting how good Grey's Anatomy is.