With the way he's holding her, kissing her, part of her, all Meredith knows is that everything's so good here, everything can be good again. It can't be any other way, not when they feel so right; it has to be okay because they're the same perfect fit they've always been. It's the only thing she's known that is perfect, in spite of all their flaws. In spite of everyone else's. Overwhelmed, overdoing it, she can feel the throbbing ache in her side, already insistent, but it doesn't matter. It's no match for this incoherent satisfaction that just turns into more desire. She keeps her fingers locked with his just to keep him close, wanting every bit of him she can get as each stroke pushes her a little further, moaning and gasping, dizzy and dazed enough to half-believe she can make this last forever anyway if she really tries.