Author's Note: This was originally written for lonelilly as part of a Secret Santa exchange at the livejournal comm elevatorjunkies. Special thanks to D for doing a super quick beta and putting up with my craziness (and occasional bad habits). Happy holidays!!!
Derek hovered in the foyer of the house and watched Alex and Izzie scramble back and forth to get their belongings. It seemed like they were packing for a month-long adventure.
"Izz, c'mon!" Alex's fingers curled around the handle of a suitcase, loosening their grip as his patience visibly waned. He let the handle slide down to the tips of his fingers and swung the case back and forth, occasionally grazing the side of his leg.
"This is such a generous gift, Dr. Shepherd," Izzie said as she wrapped a pink knit scarf around her neck. "Are you sure you don't want to keep it for you and Meredith?"
Alex jingled the keys impatiently.
Derek bit back a smile. It seemed Izzie hadn't consulted Alex when she offered to return the gift. "I'm sure," Derek insisted. "Besides, you deserve something nice after all the decorating and baking." At this point, the price of a deluxe suite at the Archfield seemed a small price to pay to get them out of the house on Christmas Eve, and he knew it wasn't an offer they were likely to turn down on their resident salaries. "You two enjoy yourselves for a night."
"Well, thanks again," Izzie said as she hoisted her bag to her shoulder.
Alex grunted similar thanks as he held the door. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas." Derek smiled warmly at his unlikely roommates and propped the door against his hip as he watched them get in their car and back out of the driveway. Izzie probably thought he was being unusually friendly, standing there waving at them as they left, but really he was just hoping that Meredith would arrive.
As a child, the wait for Santa's big visit had always been the hardest part of Christmas Eve. Now, it was the wait for Meredith, and he felt more impatient, not less.
The heavy wooden door creaked as he pushed it closed, causing the large evergreen wreath to thump against the window. Derek paused long enough to sigh. Meredith wasn't home yet, but she would be home soon, and then their Christmas could begin. Tonight, they would start making their own traditions in their own home. Together.
The scent of freshly baked sugar cookies continued to waft from the kitchen, luring Derek back. He wandered in to check that everything was in place. Izzie had baked cookies most of the afternoon after Derek had casually admitted that frosting holiday cookies was one of his favorite holiday pastimes. He'd already given Alex and Izzie their gift by then, and he knew that Izzie would eagerly initiate a baking spree in return. Within minutes, the kitchen had transformed into an assembly line of mixers, rolling pins, and cookie sheets all working to manufacture assorted trees, stars, snowmen, and ornaments. Now, several dozen cookies sat in neat rows, layered in wax paper on the kitchen island. Izzie had decorated some of the cookies, but most were left for Derek to frost. The decorating supplies were nearby, and he couldn't help but sneak a small taste of the frosting as he waited to share this favorite tradition with Meredith.
The white frosting felt cold against his skin as he dipped his finger in the container of icing and pulled out a larger-than-intended glob that dribbled off his finger and onto the back of his hand. He drew his hand to his mouth, dragging his tongue along the trail of confection while his imagination sprang to life. A smile grew across his lips as he anticipated licking it off Meredith's silken skin.
The evening was sounding better by the minute.
He surveyed the container of frosting, calculating how much should be used for cookie decorations and what part should be reserved for more recreational purposes. The excess confection was another opportunity to be grateful for Izzie's extremes; in making the frosting from scratch, she had produced nearly three times as much as he suspected they needed to frost the cookies.
The container lid popped back into place as Derek sealed up the decorating materials and returned to the living room. White lights twinkled around the perimeter of the ceiling while multi-colored lights danced throughout the tree. In the previous week, Izzie, Lexie, and Sadie had camped out in front of the television during their time off, watching holiday specials while stringing popcorn and cranberries to hang on the tree. Even Meredith chipped in after she'd uncovered a box of old ornaments from her childhood. The rest of Izzie's "Winter Wonderland" was either knitted or store-bought, and they each had a stocking to adorn the fireplace. In some ways, it reminded Derek of Christmas in Connecticut with his family; he was happy to have elements of that in the home he now shared with Meredith, even if she described it as "Santa puke." Still, he suspected that Meredith secretly appreciated all of the twinkling lights, bright colors, and fake snow. She smiled like a child stepping into FAO Schwarz every time she stepped into the room.
The fireplace crackled. A local indie station had opted to play holiday music for the evening, and as he turned out a couple lamps and the hallway light, he felt like the room had the perfect ambience for their first Christmas together.
Now, he just needed Meredith.
His cell phone vibrated violently against his leg, causing him to jump. It has to be Meredith. He pulled the phone out and looked at the caller ID.
Mom.
He groaned and silenced the buzzing. He wasn't ready for another guilt trip about being the only child incapable of coming home for the holidays for the second year in a row. He did want to be there, and he said as much when he called his mom a few days earlier. But he wanted to be with Meredith more. Maybe next year he could combine the two aspirations. He knew better than to suggest it this Christmas. He'd pick a less intimidating season to spring his family on her or introduce them in baby-steps. She'd already met Nancy, and unbeknownst to Meredith, he'd offered to fly his mom out to meet her. He'd start slow and build up from there.
He'd call back the entire Shepherd clan tomorrow when they were gathered for their Christmas traditions. Tonight was all about Meredith.
If only she'd get home already.
A car door slammed in the driveway, and Derek practically ran to the front door to look out the window. Two beams of light glowed from the front of the car, and he could hear the steady thrum of the motor still running. It was too dark to see the car clearly, especially through the giant wreath on the door, but he felt certain this wasn't Meredith.
Derek twisted the knob pre-emptively to shoo away whichever non-Meredith person was preparing to visit. Pangs of concern stabbed him as he realized Izzie was jogging toward the door, and for a fraction of a second he worried that their night had been called off, and one or both would be returning.
"Just forgot something," Izzie said as she scooted past Derek. She didn't seem to notice how anxious he was or how forced his smile was as he greeted her. She sprinted up the stairs to her bedroom while Derek stalked the entry area. For some reason, he felt like he needed to witness her leave in order to be sure it happened, so he paced the wooden floor anxiously until Izzie returned clutching a small purple bag. "Have a great night!" she said, and she ran back out the door.
"You, too," he mumbled as the door swung closed behind her. He watched the car pull out of the driveway and continued looking out at the street long after Alex and Izzie were gone. Waiting.
He was always waiting.
He pulled his cell phone out and checked the time once again, debating whether he should call Meredith and find out how long she was going to be. Maybe she had gotten held up in surgery, or maybe she was on her way home already. He punched the digit for her speed dial, but hesitated in completing the call. He didn't want to be that guy. He didn't want her to know how desperate he was for her to come home and be with him. She needed to make that decision, and she knew when they'd talked earlier in the day that he wanted to spend time with her tonight. She'd promised to come straight home from work, so there was no reason for him to call and remind her. She'd be there as soon as she could. He just needed to be patient.
But the waiting made him feel uneasy.
He walked back into the living room and looked under the tree at the small box he'd wrapped for her. He'd agonized for weeks over what to get her for Christmas, and his mind kept returning to the same thing. He knew it was stereotypical and cliché and had the potential to ruin their holiday, especially if she didn't like it or want it, but he couldn't shake the idea from his head. The minute he stepped up to the store counter, he prayed that it wouldn't be a mistake.
He wanted her to be as committed to the relationship as he was.
He just wasn't confident his wish would be granted. He was so unconfident, in fact, that he convinced himself not to buy her a ring. He rationalized that a diamond pendant was more Meredith's style. After all, she'd suggested during Cristina's engagement that she couldn't imagine having some bulky diamond on her hand all the time. It was impractical with surgeries, and she'd be paranoid about losing it if she was constantly taking it off.
He picked up the small box and ran his thumb along the seams of the silver foil wrapping. His hand trembled as he considered how something so small could hold such magnitude. When he'd picked it out, he was certain it was the perfect gift. The jeweler assured him the diamond could be made into an engagement ring if that's what she preferred, and he chose the gem with that in mind, mulling over cuts and colors and carats for two solid hours before deciding on the one he wanted to give her. Add to that the time he spent helping the jeweler design the necklace for her, and it dwarfed the time spent planning for Addison.
That was a sure thing, though. As his nerves built, he wasn't even slightly convinced this was certain. But in a way, the necklace made it easier. If he wasn't sure she'd say yes or felt like the timing wasn't right to propose, it would just be a necklace and a damn good gift at that.
Derek walked to Meredith's stocking on the mantle and dropped the box inside. The temperature felt at least twenty degrees warmer in front of the fireplace, and the back of his neck grew damp with sweat. He knew it was nerves, not heat, causing it. He'd been so confident the day he bought it and the first time he brought it into the house and put it under the tree. Meredith had watched him from the couch as she toyed with her long burgundy scarf and read her mother's diary. She'd reminded him of their agreement not to go overboard with the gifts, but he could tell she was thrilled by the fact he'd gotten something for her.
If only he could predict how thrilled she'd be when she realized what the box contained.
Keys jingled in the front lock, and his heart began beating so quickly he could feel it in his neck and hear it in his ears. This was it. He took a deep breath and walked to the front door, relieved to see long blond hair behind the glass, but something wasn't quite right. As the woman looked up through the center of the wreath, he realized who it was: Sadie, not Meredith.
"Bloody hell, that lock is difficult!" she announced as it finally barreled open. She stood in the foyer and seemed surprised to see Derek standing there. "Are you here alone?"
"Just waiting for Meredith to get home," he said. He tried to mask his agitation at having another person arrive—another not-Meredith person, nonetheless—but he sensed that some of it slipped through. His jaw tensed and he jammed his hands into his pockets as he tried to dampen his growing impatience.
"I'm surprised she's not here yet," Sadie said. She took off her coat and scarf and hung them on the coat tree. "She left the hospital over an hour ago."
Derek frowned. If that was the case, he had no idea where she was. Earlier in the day, she'd told him she was coming straight home from work. He'd gone out of his way to tell her how much he was looking forward to celebrating Christmas with her this year, and she hadn't even shown up yet.
"Maybe she needed a couple last minute gifts." Sadie shrugged as she brushed by him and walked into the kitchen. "Mmm, cookies!" She pulled out an unfrosted one and bit down, taking off a snowman's head. "Oh, and there's decorating supplies, too?"
"Yeah, but—" She was already opening everything up before Derek could get out the words to stop her. "Izzie already frosted some. They're in the container on the counter."
"Where's the fun in that?" Sadie said. She pulled a butter knife out of the drawer and began frosting her cookie with an excessive amount of icing.
"Save some for Meredith," he grumbled. His cell phone began buzzing again in his pocket, squirming against his leg like an animal clawing its way out.
Meredith, he read from the caller ID. He flipped the phone open and answered.
"Hey, where are you?" he said as cheerily as he could muster, although he felt more Scrooge-like at the moment.
"I'm on my way home now," she said. "Sorry I'm running late—I stopped off for a drink with Cristina."
Derek's expression of forced holiday cheer melted into a scowl. Of course, she had gone out with Cristina. It was always something with Cristina. Even on Christmas Eve, it would have to be Cristina.
"It's okay," he said. "Drive safely, and I'll see you soon?" He pinched his brow, and a crease formed above the bridge of his nose. Not only did he have to deal with Sadie being there, but he also had to wait for Meredith to return from drinking with Cristina.
"See you soon," Meredith said, and the phone went quiet.
Derek pocketed his phone and returned to the kitchen. "Meredith's on her way home," he said. He stopped in the doorway and couldn't resist the need to glare. Sadie had taken to frosting several cookies and had all of the decorating materials strewn across the kitchen table.
"There are still some cookies left to frost. Want to join me?" Sadie invited. She held up a knife that was completely covered in white frosting and tinted red sugar.
"No," Derek snapped. He took a deep breath and counted to himself as she stared at him. She couldn't know what he'd planned. She didn't realize that she was ruining the night alone with Meredith that he'd been planning weeks before they started taking in strays. "I was saving those for Meredith. We were going to frost cookies together."
"Oh." Sadie put the cookie and knife down on the table and stared blankly at the remaining cookies.
Derek shifted and leaned against the doorframe. "Are you here for the night?" He tried to ask calmly so it wasn't obvious that he was hoping she'd say no. He wasn't trying to be rude; he just wanted to reassess his plans.
"Why?" she asked. She still wasn't looking at him, and there was something about her body language that made him feel uncomfortable, almost threatened. "Do you have big plans with Death?"
"Meredith," he corrected. "Yeah. I thought you were visiting your family tonight. That's what she told me." He no longer cared if she thought he was being rude. He wanted her to leave before Meredith got home so he could clean up the mess and reboot the evening.
"Death counts as family," Sadie answered. "Closest I want to be to it tonight, anyway. I'll go tomorrow."
Derek's jaw clenched as he nodded. Sadie was stubborn, and she was winning this battle. He'd have to wait for Meredith to get home and have her handle it. The last thing he needed was Sadie complaining to Mere that he'd bullied her out of the house on Christmas Eve.
Without saying another word to Sadie, Derek retreated to the living room and went straight for the bar. He'd recently restocked their liquor cabinet with single malt scotch, and he pulled out the bottle along with a glass. He hadn't planned on drinking tonight, but so far, nothing was going according to plan. Besides, there was no telling how much of a head start Meredith already had on him. He just wanted a drink while he waited, sulking.
Derek poured the gold-colored liquor more generously than he normally would and plopped down on the couch. He sipped the drink, feeling it sting his tongue and burn his throat. His eyes gravitated toward Meredith's stocking.
Maybe it was all a mistake.
Even though she'd been fighting with Cristina, she still chose her over him. And now there was Sadie. He'd get rid of a roommate or two, and they'd just keep on coming, like a never-ending game of Whack-a-Mole. He'd knock one down and another would pop up to interfere with the time he planned to be alone with the woman he loved.
He hadn't realized when he'd agreed to let her keep her friends in the house how much of a commitment that would be or how far it would extend. All he'd wanted was one measly night alone with Meredith to tell her how much he loved her—how much he looked forward to a lifetime of Christmases and holidays and birthdays with her and no one else—and instead he felt like he was running a sorority house where her friends would come and go as they pleased.
The lights twinkled green and red and blue and white before him until his vision blurred. He blinked several times and returned his attention to the stocking. It was a stupid idea thinking he could propose, and she'd be ready. She wouldn't be ready until she was willing to give up the security blanket of all her friends, and neither would he.
Tonight, it was just an incredibly expensive necklace. Still a good gift, but not the gift he'd intended.
"Derek?" Meredith called as she swung the front door open and slammed it behind her.
He didn't bother to look over toward the door. He just waved his hand apathetically and continued staring at the stockings and the tree. He heard her kick off her shoes with one thud, then a second, and soon she was climbing on the couch beside him. She still had her coat and scarf on, and her cheeks were flushed.
"Where is everyone?" she asked as she leaned toward him and greeted him with a warm, soft kiss. He could smell tequila on her breath, but the scent wasn't as heavy as it used to be.
"Sadie's in the kitchen," he said with a quick nod, "and Alex and Izzie are out for the night."
A bright smile stretched across Meredith's lips. "Out for the night…the whole night?"
Hope rekindled inside him, and he set his glass on the coffee table. "Yes," he said. He pressed his lips against hers, letting them linger a bit longer than their previous kiss. "And if you can get rid of Sadie, we'll have the house to ourselves."
Meredith closed her eyes and licked her lips as he pulled away. "The whole house?"
Derek nodded. "The whole house."
Meredith jumped up with great enthusiasm and pulled off her coat. "I'll see what I can do." Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the lights from tree, and she went off to the kitchen to begin negotiations while Derek returned to his drink.
Liquid courage. Maybe it was what he needed. Maybe he could ask her after all. He took increasingly large sips, letting the alcohol warm his insides. All he wanted was her, and if she could get rid of Sadie, he'd have her.
The doorbell rang, and Derek's fingers curled so tightly around his glass that his knuckles turned white. If the glass had been thinner, he could have shattered it in his grip. He glowered as he stood up and made his way to the front door. He peeked through the window and saw the familiar black leather coat that Mark always wore hidden behind a pile of presents.
They just weren't met to be alone tonight. Courage, once again, was lost.
"Hey," Mark said as the door opened. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas," Derek grumbled.
"I just wanted to drop off a couple gifts for you and big Grey," Mark said as he made his way toward the living room and put the neatly wrapped packages beneath the tree.
Derek closed the door and dragged his feet in frustration as he followed. "I thought we were going to exchange gifts tomorrow," he said.
Mark glanced up and disappointment flickered across his face. "Yeah, I know, but I'm working until eight, and I just thought…" He shrugged. "I thought I'd bring the gifts over tonight so there'd be more under the tree tomorrow."
A sharp pain shot through Derek's chest as he grappled with the guilt he suddenly felt. He hadn't even thought of the possibility that Mark would want to come over. He knew this was Mark's favorite holiday, too. At least, it was during the years he was a de facto member of the Shepherd clan. He always spent Christmas Eve at Derek's mom's house with him and Addison. Even last year, when Derek and Addison were trying to work things out in Seattle, Mark had gone to the Shepherd's for Christmas. This was the first Christmas that he was alone.
"Well, Meredith and I have plans tonight." Derek softened as he said it. "But I guess you can stay for a bit. She and Sadie are in the kitchen."
Mark smiled and pulled off his coat, tossing it onto the couch as he followed Derek into the kitchen. Meredith and Sadie sat at the table frosting cookies together, and by the looks of the remnants of wax paper on the kitchen island, they didn't need assistance from Derek to get through the last few.
"Hey, Mark," Meredith greeted. "Come join us." She and Sadie giggled like a couple of school girls sharing a private joke—one in which Derek was constantly excluded—and Mark sat in the chair beside Meredith. He helped himself to the cookies and decorating supplies and found a knife to start smearing frosting on a tree-shaped cookie.
Meredith paused and looked up at Derek. "Are you going to join, too?" she seemed to ask with her eyes, but Derek continued to loiter in the doorway watching and pouting.
He felt like a jerk. Here she was, probably enjoying the nicest Christmas Eve she'd ever had, and all he could think about was sending everyone else away and getting her all to himself. He knew it was selfish. He hated that he was being so selfish, but it was all he wanted tonight. If they were going to start some holiday traditions together, he did not want it to center around the gang of friends constantly interfering with them.
The front door jingled and closed, and Derek couldn't help but let out a frustrated grunt. Meredith frowned, and they both looked to see who was coming in. Lexie stood in the entry and tugged off a hat and coat. She'd been staying with them ever since the breakup of the interns' self surgeries, and Meredith had gone ahead and given her a key with the expectation that she could use it whenever she wanted.
Mark's eyes grew wide, almost guilty, and he fixated on the cookie before him.
Meredith's attention shifted from Mark to Derek, and he could feel her silently yelling at him for not doing more to stop Mark's flirtations with Lexie. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, no longer making any efforts to pretend he wasn't disgusted with the way the night was going.
"I thought you were stuck at the hospital tonight?" he said, almost accusatorily, instead of welcoming Lexie. He'd checked her schedule in advance just to be sure that this wouldn't happen tonight.
"I traded shifts with Ryan so he could visit his family tomorrow," she answered. She bit her lip nervously, just like Meredith often did. "Tomorrow night I'm stuck there, but I can leave now. I can leave if you need me to go. There are other places I can go—"
"Of course not," Meredith interrupted firmly. "Nobody's asking you to go." Her eyes met Derek's and seemed to scold him yet again for his behavior. "Come on in. There are still a couple cookies left to decorate," she continued, turning back toward Lexie and smiling warmly.
Lexie grinned and shuffled over to the table. She sat beside Mark and picked up an un-iced ornament cookie.
Derek's eyes fell to the floor and a mix of emotions washed over him. Guilt, anger, shame—a smorgasbord of unwanted holiday feelings consumed him. He turned back toward the living room and sulked along the carpet to the couch. He sank down on the cushion and let his legs sprawl out so that no one would be able to sit on the sofa with him. His hand ran through his hair, and he leaned against the back of the couch, burying his face in the crook of his arm. He felt like a two-year-old ready to throw a tantrum, but he knew that wouldn't accomplish anything. Maybe he could just go to bed early and try again tomorrow.
Maybe Santa would take all the roommates with him when he made his magical nighttime visit…
"Hey," Meredith said as she walked in. She leaned against the side of the couch and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "What's going on with you?" Her face tightened with concern and irritation.
Derek could feel the frown lines creasing his face. He was tired—exhausted even—and he didn't have the energy to argue, not tonight, and particularly on an issue that he wasn't sure he was right about.
But he started anyway.
"I thought when I moved in here I'd be getting more time with you, not less."
The color slowly faded from Meredith's face, and she sat on top of his legs, not even bothering to push his feet out of her way. "You don't think we spend more time together?" she whispered. She cleared her throat and blinked repeatedly.
Derek regretted saying anything. Moments ago she was a joyful girl frosting cookies in the kitchen, and now she was sad and trembling beside him. It was his fault. He did this to her.
He let out an aggravated sigh. "I don't know, Mere. Compared to when I lived in the trailer? Not really. Then, I had you all to myself. Here, I'm competing for your time. Between Cristina and Izzie and Sadie and—"
"Derek," she said, scooting forward so she was sitting on his lap. She grabbed his hand and interlaced it with hers. "It's not a competition." She shook her head adamantly. "It's really not. There's no competition for you." She smiled, and he found himself wanting to believe her. "Do you want me to send them all away?" she asked.
"No," he said. He wanted to say yes, but he didn't think that was the answer she wanted. He also didn't want to make her be the one to kick everyone else out on Christmas Eve.
"Then what?" She wrapped her arms and legs around him and toyed with the hair at the base of neck. Most nights, the sensation of her fingers raking through his hair would calm him. Tonight, it just reminded him that he wasn't getting enough of what he wanted.
He glanced back toward the stocking, then at Meredith, and then at the faded denim jeans she was wearing as he leaned his forehead against her shoulder. "I don't know," he said. He really didn't. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.
This was selfish. He felt so selfish wanting to keep her all to himself, and he hated himself for it. But he couldn't stop himself. "Maybe I want you to want to send them all away," he whispered. He couldn't say it out loud. He knew that if he did, all of the insecurity he felt would ripple through his vocal cords.
Meredith's shoulders sagged. "Where should I send them?"
She'd do it for him. He knew that she would, but that wasn't really the point.
"I don't know," he answered. He wanted to go upstairs and pout—crawl in bed, pull the blankets over his head, and just be alone. He felt ridiculous and too warm and angry and there was no way he would be proposing tonight. If he could get a hold of his emotions, then maybe, but now he felt like he'd had far more than one drink and his world was tumbling down around him.
Meredith stood up. "Get your coat," she commanded.
Derek's brow wrinkled. "What?"
"C'mon," she said, reaching for his hand to pull him off the couch. "We'll sneak out. I have an idea."
She pulled her coat back on and reached for her purse and keys as he retrieved his coat from the front closet. He felt tense and cranky still, but the color had returned to her cheeks and she was moving with such a carefree lilt that he could feel his spirits lifting just being near her.
The outside air was substantially colder than it had been when Derek came home that afternoon, and a mist that wasn't quite rain surrounded them. He decided against asking questions as Meredith led them to the jeep and started driving. He realized they were heading to the trailer, but he didn't say anything. Everything that he'd said so far that evening had been a disaster, and if his wish of getting some time alone with her was coming true, he wasn't about to blow it. He'd let her lead the conversations, at least until he felt less moody and dejected.
They rode together silently as the windshield wipers intermittently squeaked before them. Every once in a while, Meredith would hum along to the holiday music on the radio—the same station that Derek had been playing in the house—and he smiled as he considered that at least he'd gotten that part right.
Meredith turned onto his land and parked in front of his trailer. "I wasn't planning on bringing you here until tomorrow, but…" She smiled at him and got out of the vehicle as he undid his seatbelt and stepped onto the hard dirt and gravel driveway that led to his front door.
It looked different—foreign, almost. He hadn't been there in months, and he suddenly missed it. He noticed the dermatology sign on the front door and gave Meredith an inquiring look, but she just giggled in her sprite-like way that made him feel like nothing really mattered so long as she was happy.
Meredith opened the door and flipped on the closest light switch. Rather than the typical lamps that illuminated the trailer, however, a string of white lights began twinkling around the windows and ceiling. It gave off just enough light for him to see that she'd been decorating. New red sheets and navy blue flannel blankets covered the bed, and a small pre-decorated artificial tree sat on the dinette with a couple presents wrapped beneath it.
"You were going to bring me here tomorrow?" he asked. He couldn't conceal his surprise.
"Yeah," she said. She coiled her arms around his waist and hugged him. Even though it felt like the heat in the trailer had been on for several hours already, it was nothing in comparison to the warmth of having her tight against him. "I thought you'd want to have some time to ourselves on our first Christmas together," she said.
Derek blinked. His eyes burned. She knew him. She really knew him. He felt like such a fool for doubting. He hugged her back.
"You were right," he said. He sighed as he held her close. Even though he'd been away for awhile, the trailer smelled like home. It smelled like lavender and cinnamon and all things Meredith, and that was comforting to him. It was the source of a lifetime of comfort.
His lips dipped toward her ear, and he suddenly felt disappointed again. "I left your gift at home," he realized.
Meredith pulled away and looked at him. "That's okay," she said with a carefree shrug. "I can get it tomorrow. It's not even Christmas, yet. Don't worry."
"No, I…" Derek shook his head and felt the sense of unease return. He felt more conflicted than before, but this was different.
She knew him.
She knew him better than anyone, better than Mark or Addison or even his family. She knew that he'd want to have some time alone on Christmas, and she knew that decorating the trailer for the holidays would mean a lot to him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and he had no idea if that was something she wanted, too.
He wished he knew her better. He wished he knew what she wanted the way she seemed to know him.
"Do you want to get married?" he blurted. He winced and tried to swallow the words, but it was out there, hovering in the air between them like a speech bubble in the Sunday comics, and he couldn't take it back.
"What?" Meredith gasped.
"Nevermind," he stuttered. "I didn't mean to say anything. It was a stupid question." He should've escaped to their bedroom when he had the chance. Now she'd gone and done this wonderful, romantic thing, and he'd ruined it once again.
"No, don't take it back, Derek. I just…" She frowned, and concentration lines formed around her eyes. "Is this a hypothetical or the real thing?" she said. "Give me something to work with here."
"Sorry," he said. He could feel his face flushing and his palms growing sweaty. "Hypothetical, I guess."
Meredith's eyebrows rose in suspicion. "You guess?"
He shrugged. "Unless…"
"Is that my Christmas gift?" she persisted. "An engagement ring?"
"No," he said. Not exactly.
Meredith sighed in what seemed to be relief.
"It was a stupid question," he repeated as his heart thumped wildly in his chest. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry I brought it up." He wiped his damp palms against his thighs and reached for her hands. "The place looks great, Mere," he said, squeezing her hands with his.
"Yes," she said firmly. She was staring at him with wild determination—the kind that let him know she meant business and was more than willing to stand her ground.
"Yes, the place looks great?" he asked. He was pretty sure that wasn't what she was referencing, but he needed the confirmation.
"Yes, I think we should get married," she answered. She said it quickly, like one multisyllabic word, and it took him a moment to break it into meaningful chunks and decode her message.
"You do?" The corners of his mouth spread upwards to the point that his cheeks almost hurt from grinning so much.
She laughed, but this time it came out more awkward and less playful. "The candle house had a room for our kids to play. Mommy and Daddy should probably be married or something." She wrinkled her nose and patted his arm. "But you weren't actually asking me, right?" she said more seriously. "This was just a hypothetical?"
"Right," he agreed. He hated that he didn't have her gift with him so he could genuinely ask her to marry him, but he was grateful for the reassurance that she'd say yes when he did. He'd be able to do it with confidence now. He'd thought she'd say yes when he initially picked out the gift, and now he knew he was right.
Maybe he knew her, too.
"So this gift you got me…" Her fingers fanned through his hair and massaged his scalp.
"I guess it will have to wait until tomorrow," he finished. He leaned forward and kissed her. It wouldn't be official until then, but as far as he was concerned, their lifetime together had already started. He lifted her up and carried her toward the bed as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.
"Merry Christmas, Derek," she said, her lips nuzzling against his neck.
Her voice and expression reflected all of the love and happiness he felt inside, and he wanted to cherish this moment alone with her forever.
"Merry Christmas, Meredith."