Author Devylish
Title Best Laid Plans
Chapter Wicked Humor (2/?)
Fandom Grey's Anatomy
Pair Derk/Callie
Rating PG
Words 1118
Warning/Spoiler/Summary None. None.
Disclaimer All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show Grey's Anatomy. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of devylish. devylish is in no way associated with the TV show Grey's Anatomy and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.

I'm utterly convinced that life… God… Buddha… Shiva… Allah… Mother Goddess – whoever you may believe in – has a wicked sense of humor. How else do you explain:

Improbable circumstance #1. Derek Shepherd sees me standing in line to buy condoms.

Improbable circumstance #2. Derek Shepherd buys my condoms for me.

Improbable circumstance #3. Derek Shepherd invites me out to lunch.

Does no one else see the humor of these things?! The dark, evil humor?

No one?!!!

Well how about this bit of improbableness?

Lunch with Derek turns out to be lunch AT Derek's.

We were half way to his 'house' before I noticed that we were nowhere near a McDonalds, or even a Chez Orchid.

Breaking the silence I hadn't even realized we were driving in, I blurted out: "Where the hell are we going?"

He chuckled before responding "I happen to have some chicken breasts marinating in the fridge, some pasta, and my famous Shepherd's sauce sitting and waiting at my trailer." He glanced to the side, quickly taking in Callie's profile. "You don't mind my cooking do you?"

"Are you a good cook?"

"Almost as good of a cook as I am a surgeon."

"Then I'm game." And again with the lame one-liners. Why can't I be sharp-as-a-tack sarcastic like Yang, or all tortured like Meredith? Or blonde… like Izzie? I pause mid self-lambast and scrunch my brows. Fuck-it Calliope, it's not like you really care what Derek Shepherd thinks about you! Just be yourself! I wrap my arms around my waist and cross my legs. Of course, it wouldn't hurt if my 'self' was more: blonde/tortured/sharp-tacked.

Derek watched Callie out of the corner of his eye and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Her legs were crossed – and tanned and, yeah… great looking; and her arms were curved under her 'Bite-me' labeled breasts – displaying them to an advantage. He knew it wasn't on purpose. One, Callie didn't know she'd be seeing him today so she hadn't worn a 'bite me' tshirt for his enjoyment. Two, and probably more importantly, Callie had no interest in him and he truly didn't ever imagine she would. So a flash of leg, the curve of a breast… he knew they weren't signs or signals aimed at him.

But they were uncomfortably arousing.

****

Seated on one of the little teak fold up chairs that sat on the deck outside of Derek's trailer, Callie nervously crossed and uncrossed her legs.

"Are you sure you don't need any help in there?" She yelled over her head, back towards the trailer.

Derek pushed the door open and stuck his head out. "Can you cook?"

Blush. "I make a mean chili."

He grinned at her then winked and added, "How 'bout I take care of lunch this time, and you can make your chili for me next time?"

NEXT TIME!? He's got to be kidding. He's got to be kidding. Of course he's kidding; he's simply being polite Calliope. Get a grip girl!

She slumped in her chair, much more casually than she felt, and as she picked at the frayed edge of her shorts she responded, "You couldn't handle my chili."

Derek raised a brow and stared at her.

In the ensuing silence, Callie realized just how suggestive her chili statement had probably sounded; glancing up she caught Derek's twinkling eyes and, blinking a few times she defensively added, "What?! It's spicy! I make spicy chili!"

Derek threw his head back and laughed before heading back into the trailer to tend to their meal.

As soon as he disappeared Callie dropped her chin to her chest with a groan. Fuck me.

****

"Oh. My. God!"

"I take it it meets with your approval?"

"Oh. My. God!" Callie moaned as she savored the meal Shepherd had 'thrown together'. "Are you kidding me? You made this?" She had smelled it cooking, so she knew he'd cooked it, but… "Oh. My. God!"

He smiled and took a sip of the rum and coke (diet) that he'd made for himself. "I'm glad it meets with your approval."

"You should give up surgery and become a fucking chef!"

He chuckled and picked up his own fork.

They continued to enjoy their meal in silence; silence except for Callie's moans of appreciation. And throughout the meal, Derek found himself staring at Callie, staring at her and noticing again and again just how beautiful she was. Ridiculously beautiful.

Finally settling back in her chair - sated and happy - Callie glanced up and found Derek staring at her. This time it was her turn to ask, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No."

No? That's it?

"No?"

"No."

She looked away from him and peered into the forest that surrounded his property. Glancing back she found him still looking at her and she tore her eyes away again, sitting up straighter in the chair. Five seconds was all she could take before she turned to face him again. "What?! Really! Didn't your mom ever tell you that staring is rude? Unless… do I have sauce on my chin? On my cheek?" She brushed her hand along her face, testing the cleanliness of the surface.

"You're fine. Really. Callie, you're fine." He decided to just say what he was thinking. "You're better than fine, you're beautiful."

She stopped fidgeting with her face and hands. "… Right."

He raised a brow. "You do know you're gorgeous don't you?"

"Yes." Groan. "No. I mean, I've been told I'm pretty. I know some people find me to be… kind of pretty."

"Pretty is putting it mildly."

She stared at him and determinedly built her defenses up against his misplaced charm. Standing up from the table she collected her plate and reached for his. "How much rum have you been putting in those tumblers?"

Not enough, he thought as he watched her march into his trailer. If I'd had enough rum, I'd do something stupid. Something amazingly, pleasurably, stupid – like kiss you. He took a deep breath and blew it out. Running his hand over his face he shook his head to clear it. Jesus, Shepherd, get a grip; you wouldn't stand a chance with Torres if you drank 50 rum and cokes. He stood up and tucked his hands in his pockets. Of course, I might stand a chance if Callie had a couple more drinks.

He mentally slapped himself, but that would be wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. I'm not the type of guy who takes advantage of tipsy women. He spun around to face Callie as she pushed out of the trailer, and once again he found himself suddenly, unexpectedly, aware of her beauty…. But crap, I wish I was.