Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy. I hate Rose!
A/N: This is a one-shot I did on a whim, while impatiently waiting for the next episode.
Of Shiny And Scalpel
Derek Shepherd looked around, smiling his trademark smile, waiting for a result of a query he asked his convenient girlfriend—wait, conveniently asked his girlfriend. As she was printing the data, Meredith walked into the lobby, her honey blond hair swaying with every stride, laughing at Cristina's (probable) impersonation of her interns. Derek found himself staring.
"Huh," he said to himself. "Does she seem," he addressed Rose, who just handed him the results, "shinier to you somehow?"
"Who?" Rose asked, following his stare. She wasn't surprised. "Dr. Grey?"
"Yeah, Meredith." Derek replied.
"I've been hearing some good things about her clinical trial." Rose mentioned, denying the fact that Meredith could be happy because of him, and, like a lovesick puppy (for the blind maybe, she added contemptuously) Derek noticed.
It took him a full five seconds to answer. The sparkle pager carefully pinned on her hip caught his eye, and he remembered—Rose, who was probably staring daggers at him right now. "Our," he corrected, "I'm her consulting neurosurgeon."
"Of course." She didn't make him wait those weeks for nothing. "So I'll see you later?"
Derek smiled at her, effortlessly consoling her of his affection, as his blue eyes sparkled. She fell for it; of course, they all did. It was one of those things Mark always asked him about. Mark would always be the talker; he would attract women with his well-built physique and sharp wit, while Derek just smouldered. He smouldered his way into Addison. And with Meredith, well, he smouldered with a glass of scotch backing him up.
Meredith Grey hid behind a wall. There he was, Derek Shepherd, in all of his dreamy glory, waiting with the doe-eyed nurse Rose. She tried to chart a way around the lobby; a year of sneaking around in the hospital didn't do her any good. She was still dark and twisty like the staircases and the towels she left on the floor after she had sex with Derek.
"Listen, I have—"
Cristina paused upon seeing Rose hand something to Derek. Meredith heard her pager go off.
"I'll give you this surgery if you walk with me." Meredith said, eyeing Cristina intently. She nodded.
"Yesterday, she was the nurse at one of Bailey's surgeries," Cristina whispered conspiratorially. "I asked her for a number eleven scalpel, since we needed to operate on the Achilles heel, but she gave me a number eighteen!"
Meredith laughed. They were making their way across the room.
"Seriously. Did she want me to slice the guy's foot off?" Cristina scoffed.
"She has ugly stringy hair." Meredith commented, relying on her peripheral vision. "You can't date a guy with better hair. That's ridiculous."
"More ridiculous than her total lack of scalpel knowledge?"
"It's up there." Meredith answered, trying to gauge her steps. She didn't want to look like she was hurrying, but at the same time, she wanted to look like she had no time to chat with clingy nurses and handsome neurosurgeons.
"You do know that he was staring at you the whole time we were walking, right?" Cristina, smirking triumphantly, asked Meredith, once they reached the elevator.
"I have shinier hair." Meredith replied, stifling a smile.
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