This is a story I wrote earlier in the year as my ode to summer love. The idea started with what if Meredith really had taken that European trip she was supposed to have taken before medical school? And what if instead of just a neurosurgeon, Derek was Italian royalty? Far fetched I know, but oh so much fun to write. Other characters from GA will make an appearance, but this is mainly a Meredith and Derek fic. So sit back, relax, and take a Roman Holiday...
And of course I don't own Grey's Anatomy. If I did, I would be living in Italy instead of writing about it!
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away….
Well, actually it's happening right now. Or right now in fanfic land. That's beside the point though. And Italy really isn't that far away, only a six hour trip from New York. Granted, six hours on a plane is a very very long time when you're squished into sardine cans, but we can let that slide for now.
There lived a handsome prince called Derek.
Except, technically, he really wasn't a prince. Italy had "officially" dismantled the monarchy back in 1946. That didn't stop his father from labeling himself the Duke of Savoy or from Derek from being known as Prince Derek in all the tabloids though. So more of an honorary Princedom, but a princedom none the less.
He was certainly handsome though. He had this wavy almost raven hair that men or women would die for, these piercing blue eyes that could express every emotion under the sun, especially the naughty ones. But just like every handsome prince that was raised to know he is a prince, he knows he's handsome and he knows he's royalty, so watch out girls. Especially if he starts leaning. Just get ready to have your knees go weak and the ground underneath you to feel a little unsteady if you are lucky enough to see his hip parked up against anything. Trust me.
One important thing to note is that this prince doesn't consider "Prince" to be his main occupation in life. He had a thriving neurosurgery practice in New York up until his father's death a few short months ago. He had never even been to Italy before 2002, the royal family having been banned from setting foot in the country until then. He has spent the last couple of months touring his adopted country, learning his heritage and literally sowing his royal oats.
For his father's dying wish had been for him to honor his long-standing betrothal to his childhood friend: Addison Forbes Montgomery. Their families having been friends since either of them could remember. The Forbes the closest you could get to royalty in American society. It had always been understood that they would get married someday, so he had made it official a couple of years ago. They had not set a date though and somehow new hurdles always had seemed to get in their way.
But now his father had died and the wedding was set for this Sunday at Villa D'este. Addie was probably there now ordering everyone around and generally freaking out. He had let her plan everything, his only request being he wanted to have nothing to do with it. He knew when they returned to New York it would all be about "Derek and Addison" and their new life together, so he was taking this week for himself. He was going to enjoy his last week of bachelorhood as a normal citizen: touring the sites and generally just enjoying his last moments of freedom.
So we join our hero as he lays sprawled out on one of the most famous tourist attractions in all of Italy: The Spanish steps. He lies almost at the top of the first tier, directly in the center, soaking up the early morning rays. It is still semi-early, so a chill still clings to the cold stone. The sun has just managed to rise above the opposing buildings, sending the first warm rays onto his skin.
The hot Italian sun is very potent though and he soon finds himself no longer needing his brown leather jacket. He takes it off to reveal a very quintessential Italian outfit: tan khaki linen pants, white short-sleeved linen button-down shirt, and a pair of brown leather penny loafers. He bundles said jacket into a little ball, places his head upon it as a pillow, and is just about to close his eyes in heavenly bliss, when he's interrupted by a very loud and very distinctive feminine, "Shit."
Now, into this land of far, far away came a beautiful princess named Meredith
We've established that far, far away is Italy, right? Right. Well, she's not a princess in the conventional sense of the word. But as her best friend, Christina Yang, would say, royally inbred. Get that disgusting look off of your face, that means her parents are doctors. And not just any doctors, a world-famous doctor: Ellis Grey.
She is very beautiful in a very ethereal and very princess-like way. She has a very petite frame, flowing honey blonde hair, and striking cat-like green eyes that give her a damsel in distress-like appearance. Don't think you can pinch her cheeks or stream-roll your way over her though. Hiding behind that dainty visage is one tough broad armed with a caustic wit and some pretty effective in-effectual fists.
Who has escaped from the clutches of her evil step-mother.
Oh, how she wishes that woman was no blood relation of hers. But in fact, it was her own mother's constant recriminations and ever-present disappointments that had sent her on this ill-fated trip. All she wanted to do was have a week away from the harpy and get some perspective on her life. Perspective that had not been achieved by spending the entire flight stuck between a 300 pound man who needed to stock up on deodorant and a woman whose abnormally wide elbows kept jabbing her in the side. Just because she was tiny didn't mean she didn't need ANY room.
So after an entire night of not sleeping, she landed at the airport and made her way over to the American Express office, only to discover that her traveler's checks were useless until tomorrow (There should be a very large disclaimer on the bottom of traveler's checks that American Express is not open every day. In her case, this happened to coincide with the day of her arrival: Monday. Seriously? Banks in this country were closed on Mondays? Seriously?).
Which is how she found herself looking over the Piazza di Spagna (being where said American Express office is located) tired, drawn, cranky, and lacking all but the most basic of Euros . All she wanted to do was find her hotel and sleep until this never-ending horror of a day could be over. But no, God hated her. Because where not two seconds before the directions to her hotel were right here in her bag, they seem to have magically disappeared into the black hole that was her purse.
She plops down, totally unaware of her surroundings, and lets out a small explicative.
"It's too early in the morning for a bella like you to have such a wicked frown on your face." She hears a man call out to her from her right.
She isn't about to encourage any strange men in foreign countries, so she keeps her head down and keeps rummaging through her bag.
"Are you ignoring me?" She soon hears. Apparently, he did not get the hint.
She pauses in her rummaging to take a quick look at said interloper and is shocked to find one of the most strikingly handsome men she has probably ever seen smiling at her not two feet away. No, smiling isn't the exact word. Twinkling would be a better description. Yes, twinkling. Twinkling at her as his body lays sprawled out on the steps like a man-candy buffet. Oh, she was definitely not talking to him now.
"Um…trying to." She tells him dampeningly, perusing her purse in one last desperate search for the missing document.
"You shouldn't ignore me." The man tries again, clearly not deterred in the least by her less than welcoming attitude.
"Why not?" She can't help but respond back, meeting his twinkle with a few seconds of her own dazzling smile before she turns back to her purse.
"Because I'm someone you need to get to know to love." He zings back, half-joking but half-serious at the same time.
This certainly gets her attention. "So if I know you I'll love you?" She counters, for the first time giving him her full attention, raised eyebrows and all.
"Well…that would be for you to decide." He shrugs self-deprecatingly, but his eyes tell a different story. They say just try it out for a second. They say I know you'll love me. They say I'm good-looking and I know it.
She doesn't have time for this. She has to find her hotel. The piece of paper with the address and directions of her hotel has clearly gone missing, which is where her mind must have gone to misplace such an important document. Mr. Uber-sexy is clearly waiting for an answer from her, but all she does is drop her clearly useless bag on the step in front of her and drop her head in her hands.
"Oh, hey, I was just kidding." The man says, sitting up in agitation and for the first time sounding like a normal human being.
"It's not you." She says without raising her head from her hands, but sensing the earnestness of his concern.
"Well, it's too early in the morning for me to interpret girl flip out. So you tell me what the problem is, and I'll tell you how to fix it." He offers, the initial arrogance returning and, if at all possible, growing by leaps and bounds.
She raises the fingers from her face just enough to assess whether this man may actually be able to help her. She looks over to find him boyishly staring back at her, his arms now wrapped around his legs, his eyes willing her to confide in him.
Well, it was worth a shot. "I have not slept in 24 hours because all airlines have apparently decided to convert to munchkin-land only seating, I have no money because I decided to land on the only day that American Express is not open, and now apparently I have no hotel because the piece of paper that the address was on has decided to make a run for it and has absconded from my bag." Meredith rants, placing her immediate concerns and discomforts before him.
Instead of looking taken aback, or even a little freaked out, as she had secretly hoped he might, he looks…like he's about to laugh. She's about to huff off in righteous indignation, when he pulls himself together and tries to look serious.
"Well, I cannot go back in time, so the first issue we'll just have to put behind us." He starts off, rejecting that problem as insubstantial.
"The second, I would offer, but would only probably be met with a resounding rejection." He concludes, looking to her for confirmation and nodding knowingly when she grudgingly nods her head in agreement.
"But the third…" He says as he rubs his chin in thought, "The third I may be able to do something about. Do you know the name of the Hotel?"
"Villa de Roma, or some such thing." She says, a small amount of hope starting to make its way into her heart for the first time that morning.
"Well, I don't know where that is, but I do know someone who might." He offers, but then adds, "But it comes with one condition."
Suddenly suspicious, she narrows her eyes at him and hesitantly asks, "What condition?"
"That you join me for an espresso. It's the least you can do after so rudely interrupting my sun bath." He cajoles, breaking out the twinkling and the….dreaminess, yes the dreaminess, once more to entice her into having a cup of coffee with him.
She takes an assessing look at him. Usually arrogance turns her off big time, but on him it just seems to fit. He has offered to help her with her hotel, and she does desperately need some caffeine. She would never knowingly go somewhere in a foreign country with a perfect stranger, but something tells her there is nothing to worry about from this man. And it will be in a public place.
And for some reason, she would like to find out more about him. He lies so casually on the steps, yet something tells her there's nothing casual about him at all. He comes across as arrogant and narcissistic, and yet there's a blanket vulnerability in his eyes. He is a mystery wrapped up in an enigma. And it's only a cup of coffee. It's not like she was going to fall in love with him or anything.
"One cup." She agrees, firmly stating her single condition.
"Deal." He answers a little too easily, standing up to offer her his hand.
She looks at said hand dazedly for a second until she realizes he is offering to help her up. She takes his hand and immediately a zing of electricity passes from his hand to hers, seeming to electrify the air around them. As soon as she's standing, she drops his hand as fast as she can. But as they make their way down the legion of steps, she has to shake it to rid it of the little bursts of current that still linger.