Disclaimer: We don't own Grey's Anatomy. We don't write for Grey's Anatomy. But after this update you might want to start a petition to get us the job. Just kidding. Unless of course you actually want to…
Derek groaned and looked at the book in front of him. Again. He had been looking at the same page for an hour. He never looked at the same page for an hour, but he was so mad, so annoyed. He didn't need this. He was in his last year and needed the high marks to get into med school. He didn't needed this added stress that was leading him to staring at the same page for an hour.
He knew it was his job as TA to sometimes talk to the students, to help them if they needed it. He understood that. But to actually have to tutor a spoiled brat like Meredith Grey. It was just above and beyond unreal. He had things to do. Classes to pass, medical schools to apply to, meetings to plan. He did not have time to put up with Meredith's hangovers.
"God, I can't do this," he groaned, wracking his fingers through his hair as he pushed away from his desk.
"Do what?" Mark grinned as he came into the room, tossing his leather coat on the couch as he went into the kitchen to grab a beer.
"I'm a senior student. These marks are important. I can't do it," Derek said, shaking his head as he headed to follow Mark. He needed a beer. God, he needed a beer.
"Drinking in the middle of the day, Shep?" Mark raised his eyebrows. "I knew I'd finally get to you. And what can't you do?"
"You did not get to me. Meredith got to me. And that's exactly what I can't do," he sighed, opening the beer.
"You can't do Meredith?" he grinned. "Having problems, Shep? I've heard there are some amazing little blue pills that help with that. Not that I would know, the family jewels work just fine."
"Mark, not everything is about fucking," Derek groaned. "I've been asked to tutor her."
"Oh," Mark nodded. "Tutor her. In what exactly? Anatomy? Screwing? Discovering the Shepherd family jewels?"
"Psychological Behaviour, you idiot," Derek said, gently hitting Mark in the arm.
"Oh, I bet you could teach her something about her physiological behavior," Mark winked. "And who is this Meredith anyway?"
"Some first year. Meredith Grey," Derek shrugged.
"Oh, a freshman," Mark laughed. "Now I really know what you're tutoring her. Nice cover by the way."
"Mark, she's a complete brat. I had to fight to get any time with her because she'd rather be partying than studying. She makes you look like a serious student," Derek answered.
"I'm offended," Mark frowned. "I'm an extremely serious student. I take my classes extremely seriously."
"Yes, when you're not too busy screwing some nameless chick you're quite the serious student," Derek nodded, laughing slightly despite his frustration.
"Man, I wouldn't even worry about it," Mark shrugged. "At least you're finally going to get laid."
"I'm tutoring her, Mark. Tutoring. We'll be spending hours looking at textbooks. Assuming she's not to hung over," Derek argued.
"You could always do her on the library tables," Mark grinned. "You could even play some games. She's the naughty school girl, you're the principal who has to punish her."
"You're a sick twisted person, Mark Sloan," Derek shook his head. "I wouldn't even want to fuck her. She's more your type...loose and easy."
"Nice," his friend nodded appreciatively. "How's the body, man? She's gotta rock the body."
Derek sighed. "She's hot, she's definitely hot. Tiny little thing, gorgeous eyes. And completely beside the point. I don't have time to tutor some girl who'd rather be out drinking."
"You have a thing for her," Mark grinned. "I'm telling you, library tables. You'd be a fucking legend man."
"I don't want to be a fucking legend. I don't even want to be a fucking tutor," Derek groaned.
"Dude, you could totally have her take an article of clothing off everytime she gets a question right!" Mark said excitedly. "Or you take your clothes off. And then she fucks you if she gets an A on a paper. You think old man Stanton would let me tutor?"
"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you sure the same mother raised us?" Derek asked, shaking his head.
"Nothing's wrong," Mark stood up to throw his beer bottle away. "Mom always told us all work and no play makes us dull boys. You gotta play, Shep."
"I play. I don't play with easy drunks on library tables," Derek said.
"You don't play," Mark rolled his eyes. "You sit in here all damn day to study. Unless you have class. Or a meething with the Future Dorks of America. You're pasty. You're actually whiter than the walls. No wonder this chick doesn't want to fuck you. She was probably hoping for a hot tutor."
"She doesn't want a tutor period. The only reason she agreed was because she doesn't want to be kicked out. She just wants a bar and a bottle of tequila," Derek sighed, shaking his head.
"Oh the things good ol' Jose can make a girl do," Mark sighed, a smile slowly creeping over his features. "I gotta tell you, Shep, the girls who prefer tequila? Do the craziest fucking things in bed. Things you haven't even dreamed of."
"Mark, use your other head for once. Your best friend is having a crisis. You don't think I have a life now, imagine what will happen when I have to spend six hours a week with her," Derek pointed out.
"I am using my other head," Mark nodded. "I'm seeing that this could be good for you. You don't have any friends except me. You never leave this fucking apartment. It's ridiculous, Derek. I don't know what's up but I'm talking to Mom about it over Thanksgiving break."
"You are not talking to Mom about me," Derek huffed. "There is nothing wrong with me. I want to be a doctor, it's hard work. Simple as that."
"I want to be a doctor too," Mark shrugged. "But I'm having fun. You have to learn to strike a balance, Shep."
"I don't need a balance. I don't need to tutor a brat. And I don't need to be having this conversation," Derek groaned, moving back towards his desk.
"Look, man, you know I don't do the chick flick shit," Mark followed him, "but you're running yourself into the ground. You've got to have fun, Derek. Your dad would want you to have fun for once in your life."
"I'll have fun when I'm done school, Dad would get that," Derek shrugged. "I'm fine, Mark. And I don't need a manwhore watching out for me."
"Dad would want you to have fun," Mark repeated. "And Mom wants you to have fun. And this Meredith chick? She's fun, Derek. She's going to be fun. And you know what really pisses me off? I'm your brother, man. So stop acting like a stranger is giving you this advice. I've known you for years. I know what's going through that fucked up head of yours. And it's not healthy."
Derek sighed and sunk into his desk chair. A part of him knew that Mark was right. he had been glued to his chair since September. He knew it was bad. But he needed to, he needed to get good marks. But Mark was right. "If I go to a party with you this weekend will you shut up?"
"Sure," Mark shrugged. "I'll shut up at Thanksgiving if you fuck a girl."
"Party, Mark. I agreed to a party. Don't push your luck," Derek groaned.
"Fine, whatever," Mark rolled his eyes. "I've gotta run. I have a date with...well...shit. Some chick."
"Of course you do," Derek laughed. "I won't wait up."
"You really shouldn't," Mark grinned and grabbed his coat. "Oh, and Shep?"
"Yes?" Derek asked, his attention already back on the book.
"When's your first tutoring session with hot chick?"
"Tomorrow, why?" Derek asked.
"Condoms are in my bedside table," Mark winked. "No glove, no love."
"You're an idiot," Derek sighed.
Mark laughed as he shut the door, leaving Derek to his studying, yet again.
GAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGA
Tomorrow. Tomorrow was her first session with Derek The Dork. That was his new nickname. Not The Patrick Dempsey. Derek the Dork. And tomorrow she had to spend two hours with him. She couldn't help but groan. It was going to be the longest two hours of her life.
Cristina was still pissed at her about the skipping of the test situation. So pissed that, even though they shared a cramped dorm room, Cristina had somehow managed not to look or speak to her for the past hour and a half. Instead, music blared from her iPod as she frowned at her books. Meredith groaned loudly again, hoping her friend would somehow notice.
"I'm not talking to you, Grey," Cristina muttered, not looking up from her books.
"You just did," Meredith grinned.
Cristina looked up and rolled her eyes at her roommate and shook her head no before looking back down at her books. Apparantly teasing her wasn't going to make her talk to Meredith.
"Cristina," Meredith groaned. "Seriously. I already said I'm sorry."
"Well yeah, it was a lame ass apology. And a lame ass excuse," Cristina shrugged.
Meredith rolled her eyes. "You can't not talk to me, Cristina. I'm already being punished enough."
"Because being tutored by McDreamy is such a great punishment," Cristina laughed.
"McDreamy?" Meredith stared at her friend. "Are you on something? He's totally not McDreamy. He's a total Mc...Dork."
"Who looks like Patrick Dempsey," Cristina nodded. "And Patrick Dempsey is dreamy."
"He has a day planner, Cristina!" Meredith groaned. "Seriously. A day planner. He's not Patrick Dempsey anymore."
"You know Patrick Dempsey is kind of dorky. Ever hear that man talk about racing? He's like a lame little kid," Cristina pointed out.
"Ten bucks says Patrick Dempsey doesn't have a day planner," Meredith argued.
"I'll take that action," Cristina sighed. "Though I think finding out the answer will involve stalking."
"His wife just had twins," Meredith grinned. "We could always be nannies."
"You can be a nanny. I don't do babies. I can be his assistant or something. Of course that might involve a day planner and there goes our friendship," Cristina shrugged.
"We could call him Mr. Dempsey," Meredith giggled. "It would be so hot."
"Mr. Dempsey, it looks like your fly is stuck, would you like some help with it?" Cristina laughed.
"Mr. Dempsey, you look so stressed. A bubble math might help...I could join you," Meredith giggled again.
"Mr. Dempsey, I scheduled a massage for you but forgot to book a masseus. I'd be happy to help you out though," Cristina replied.
"Mr. Dempsey, Talula found our handcuffs, what should I tell her?" Meredith started laughing, falling back on her bed.
"Oh, Mer, bringing the kids into it is just dirty," Cristina shook her head. "And with handcuffs."
"I'm the nanny, I'd be responsible for the kids," Meredith nodded. "And you remember what he said on Regis and Kelly? He's an animal in bed. Handcuffs would be necessary."
"And to think you're complaining about being tutored by a look alike," Cristina smiled.
"Oh God," Meredith groaned. "Don't remind me. He's such a fucking dork. What with his day planner and his smugness. And he belongs to Future Doctors of America. Seriously. He's a complete freak."
"Not that I'm disagreeing but just fuck his brain out and pretend he's Mr. Dempsey. Sounds like he needs a good lay," Cristina shrugged.
"Cristina!" Meredith stared at her, horror on her face. "A day planner! I cannot fuck a guy with a day planner!"
"Meredith, considering the namless guys you fuck every night you probably already have," Cristina pointed out, laughing.
"You're disgusting," Meredith shook her head. "And I have to meet him tomorrow at the library. For two hours. What the fuck am I going to do at the library for two hours?"
"Library tables, could lead to interesting stories to tell the Dempsey kids," Cristina volunteered.
"What?" Meredith raised her eyebrows. "Library tables?"
"You're slow," Cristina groaned. "Fuck him on the library tables. You know you want to."
"Seriously?" Meredith stared at her best friend. "Seriously. I do not want to fuck him. That is disgusting. He has a day planner. And he's probably president of the Dartmouth chapter of Future Doctors of America. He is disgusting. And gross. And a complete and total freak. So what if he has amazing blue eyes and great hair and a great body. He's a dork. A complete and total McDork!"
"Doth think the lady protest too much," Cristina nodded.
"Don't quote that Shakespeare shit at me," Meredith growled. "He's...he's...not fucking material. I wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. And he's not even Patrick Dempsey. He's...Ronnie Miller. Only...worse. Because he...because he is. So he's young Patrick Dempsey and...and...no. I don't want to fuck him.'
"Ronnie was kind of hot," Cristina pointed out. "And seriously, Mer, this is your fault. You don't even need a tutor. If you actually went to class you'd be acing it and we both know it."
"Whatever," Meredith shrugged. "Becca and her boyfriend are throwing a party tonight. You coming?"
"I never miss a party," Cristina smied.
Meredith grinned as she threw on a halter top and jeans. Tonight, she wouldn't think about Derek Shepherd. Tonight, she wouldn't worry about tutoring. Tonight, she'd party and have a good time. And definitely not think about the McDork whose smile she couldn't get out of her head.
Will you persist even after I bet you a billion dollars that I'll never love you.
