"Going home Derek?" Dr Wineman asked as Dr Derek Shepherd strode past him on the way towards the shiny aluminium elevator doors, brief case tucked under his arm, dark trench coat fastened around his toned stomach and the collar popped.
"I am indeed" He replied happily, he'd had a good day, his patients had lived, he hadn't been super busy and now he could go home early to a beautiful redhead that was his wife. It was very unusual for Derek to finish at this time of night, he'd make it home for dinner for once.
"Well Addison will be pleased!" Dr Wineman said as he waved his co-worker into the elevator.
"That's what I'm hoping for!" Derek replied mainly to himself with a little, cheeky grin expanding across his bristly face.
The elevator played light piano music as he descended the floors to the basement and he listened, feeling that he had never really listened to the music in these things. Once in the basement he walked to his silver BMW X3, flung his brief case on the passenger seat and started the engine.
As Derek drove out of New York Presbyterian Hospital, he turned his CD player and listened to Nickleback, singing along in places. In the car, driving down the New York streets he thought to himself about Addison, his wife of eleven years. They had met whilst studying medicine in University, she'd been a little sceptical of him at first, but he'd been eager, and wooed her at every opportunity he had. He took her to fancy restaurants, to the movies, out to clubs, sometimes they just cuddled in their tiny dorm rooms. He graduated university a year before her, and chose to do his internship and residency in a hospital close to their shared flat so they could be together. During this time their relationship was strained, he was working twenty eight hours, nine days a week, but loving it. It got easier when Addison graduated and followed him to the same hospital, now they could spend stolen moments in on-call rooms or store cupboards.
They had got married in a beautifully decorated, high ceiling church, with a lot of friends, family and co-workers there to witness it. Addison's dress was beautiful, he could still remember now how he felt as the music began to play the wedding march, he had taken a deep breath, swallowed, nodded at his best man and friend Mark Sloan then turned around to face the back of the church where Addison had entered, a vision in white. She stood tall, her long red hair partly twisted up, whilst the rest lay on her shoulders, shaping her face in elegant delicate curls. She wore a small vale that was pinned to the back of her head which fell to the small of her back. The dress, which was strapless and satin, fitted around her breasts perfectly, with a heart shaped neckline, threaded pearls decorated the bodice lines. The skirt of the dress flowed out from her tiny waist to the floor, also decorated sparsely with pearl beading. She looked amazing. Better than amazing, Derek thought to himself, she looked "perfect".
They jetted off on their honeymoon a day later, destined for Tokyo.
Nearing his home, he pulled over by a flower stand and hopped out of the car, making sure to lock it. He looked at the flowers delightfully arranged looking bright and colourful even in the dark at six in the evening. He spotted white and red lilies, in a bundle together, similar to the ones he remembered his wife carrying in her bouquet down the isle.
"Excuse me? How much for these?" He asked the old attendant who was sat, half asleep on a stool. She replied in Italian. Derek looked at her blankly. Over head a thunder clap rumbled and it began to rain. He handed over a twenty dollar bill presuming it would cover the cost, probably three times over. He took the flowers and jumped in the car just as a heavy down poor began.
The Shepherds lived in a three-story town house that faced central park. It was decorated beautifully inside with a room dedicated to music, in which Derek's collection of guitars, including the acoustic with which he sang a proposal to Addison all those years ago. As Derek drove down the street the beams on the car lit up a bike, parked outside his house. He rolled his eyes and sighed, Mark Sloan was here, probably sitting on the leather couch, feet up on the coffee table with a glass of Derek's favourite whisky. "Why am I not surprised?" He thought to himself as he came to a halt.
As he shut the door behind him he narrowed his eyes and glared at the floor. Mark's shoes were kicked off and not placed tidily, normally Addison would have put them away neatly. Then his eyes noticed the black leather jacket carelessly strewn on the stairs.
"Why is Mark's jacket here?" He asked himself quietly. He looked into the open plan living room, the TV was off, his bar seemed the same as he left it last night. He was about to go and check the kitchen when he heard a thump and a giggle from upstairs.
Taking one step at a time, Derek ascended up the stairs, his heart pumping faster and faster. The corridor leading to his master bedroom was draped with various items of clothes, a sock, a belt, a head band, a man's white t-shirt, a skirt…
He arrived at the bedroom door, he could hear every beat of his heart, could feel the blood pulsing around his body, every breath felt harsh and long, his vision and hearing had never been clearer. His hand gripped the cool brass door knob and twisted.
The old oak door opened quietly, the lights were off, but the silhouette of the two bodies – his wife and best friend, thrusting, one on top of the other, hands roaming and groping, moans of pleasure escaping her delicate mouth. In that one moment he felt, nothing.
Nothing, not a thing, just blank empty feeling. Had anyone asked him prior to this what he thought his reaction to catching his best friend and wife in bed together would be, he would have listed a string of words synonymous with anger. But in reality, Derek Shepherd didn't blink, he just said one word.
"Mark."
No question in his voice, no anger, no accusation. Just a simple statement of his name.
Immidiately the pair stopped, mid sex, Addison's toned body sliding off Mark, where she sat, straddling him. She ran fingers through her hair and had the descency to look guilty.
"Derek I can explain?" She stressed, reaching for the sheets to cover her moon lit bare naked skin.
"It's not what it looks like!" Mark chirped in with a wholly unhelpful manner.
Derek turned around and walked down the stairs, and slammed the door behind him.
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"Straight tequila, really?" Derek heard a barman say, "You are going to be sorry in the morning".
"I'm always sorry in the morning!" The woman replied, accepting the drink. Derek smiled, interested in the mouse-brown haired girl sat at the bar. "But tomorrow I start my first day at work, so keep 'em coming!"
As she downed her tequila, Derek stood and headed to the bar, taking a position next to the young woman, "Double Scotch single Malt" he ordered his favourite drink and sat down. He glanced at his neighbour and she glanced back, before turning away. Derek sensed she felt awkward but proceeded any way.
"So is this a good place to hang out?" – a simple conversation starter he felt, nothing obvious or intrusive.
"I wouldn't know, I've never been here before" she replied, polite, soft, but still awkward.
"Oh you know what I haven't either! First time here, I'm new in town!" Derek explained, accepting his drink from the robust bar man. "I've never been to Seattle, but got a new job so…" He looked at her and sighed. She wasn't even making eye contact with her. She was ignoring him. "You're ignoring me."
Still awkward, "Um, I'm trying too!"
"Oh you shouldn't ignore me!" Derek tried, flashing his nicest smile.
"And why not?" The woman asked looking at him sceptically.
Derek continued "Because I'm someone you've got to know to love!"
"Really?"
"Oh yes!" At least she was engaging him in conversation now. This was progress.
"So if I know you, I'll love you?" She confirmed, raising one perfectly plucked eye brow.
"Oh yes!"
"So you really like yourself huh?" her eyes sparkled with humour and slight hint of annoyance.
"Just hiding my pain" he answered honestly, but in a light mannered way. They shared a giggle. He felt her voice was angelic. "So you are?"
"I'm, I'm just a girl in a bar!" she replied lifting her glass and flicking her long fringe out of her small face.
"Well I'm just a guy in a bar!" He smiled, they clinked their glasses together and grinned.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
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Well that was just a short one shot of the events leading up to the bar meet.
Hope you enjoyed.
Please review!