Author's Note: I'm soooo sorry for the wait! I really thought I'd be more productive over the holidays – but apparently not. But, the good news is, we're finally going to meet Meredith in the next chapter! Yay! Also, I hope nobody gets really mad if I take the story in my own direction a little. I think it will be more interesting for everyone to read if I don't follow the series to the letter. Believe me, there will still be plenty of MerDer drama to keep you reading – I'm just going to approach it a bit differently. If you stay along for the ride, I don't think you'll be disappointed. Also, I feel the need to mention that I do not own these characters or plotlines – they belong to the wonderful writers of Grey's Anatomy. I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.
Chapter 3 – Wide Open Spaces
I stepped out of Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, and into the pouring rain. I'd heard of the city's legendary rainfall but forgot to prepare myself for it. Holding my old duffel bag over my head in a vain attempt to avoid getting too wet, I stuck my hand out towards the street to hail a cab. Within ten seconds, I was putting my bags into the taxi's back seat. In New York, it could have taken easily ten times longer. Then again, there were few places like New York.
I walked over to the passenger's side backseat of the cab. The cabbie, a man of Mediterranean descent, turned to look at me through his thick lenses. "So, signor, where would you like to go?"
"The Archfield Hotel, please. Extra tip if it's fast."
"You weren't very prepared for the weather in the Pacific Northwest, were you?"
I knew what he meant. Only an outsider would wear just a flannel shirt and jeans outside of the airport in Washington. Though I hadn't waited long, I was still fairly damp, and the cabbie turned down the air conditioning in the cab. It may have been July but the dampness with the cold air chilled me to the bone.
"No, I wasn't. But thanks."
The cabbie, being the tricky type, completed a 25 minute journey in 18. As I stepped out of the cab in front of the Archfield, I gave him a 50% tip, grabbed my bags, and waved as he drove away.
The Archfield was a gorgeous building for Seattle – in New York it would probably be considered in the upper medium. I walked in the revolving doors and checked in. I was given a suite on the third floor and I followed the bus boy up to the room to settle down and prepare for tomorrow.
I was surprised when I arrived at the room to see the room service staff approaching the room as well.
"Excuse me," I said, not wanting to have extra charges before I even entered the room. "I didn't order any room service."
"Dr. Derek Shepherd?" the young woman asked.
"Yes, that's me, but you see I haven't even entered the room yet, so I couldn't have…"
"This food is complements of a Dr. Richard Webber. He left a note with us, as well," she said, gesturing towards the dining cart her coworker was pushing.
"Oh, well in that case, go right on ahead," I said, and as soon as the bus boy retreated the room service staff whisked the dining cart in. They left two silver trays on the table, as well as the note in a sprawling script that even today I would recognize as Richard's.
"Thank you very much," I said to the two young workers. The young woman nodded, and both left me alone.
First things first, I examined the food. It was a relief to not have to find some place to eat – my mother had, as always, packed me a lunch for the plane ride but forgotten that I didn't like tuna fish. There had been tears in her eyes when she handed the paper bag off to me in front of JFK. I felt bad for leaving my mother, but knew it was for the best.
There was a Cornish game hen with stuffing and green bean amandine, as well as two cannoli with coffee-flavored cream. Richard knew me well. Before I ate, I looked at the note.
Derek –
Your next two meals are on me. Meet me for breakfast tomorrow at Camparos. We'll discuss your contract there…among other things. Looking forward to seeing you again.
Richard
I grinned. Richard treated his favorites well. I couldn't complain. But before I ate my bribe, I had one last piece of business to take care of.
I dialed speed dial number two on the ever present Blackberry. Mom picked up after half of a ring.
"Derek! I take it you've arrived safely?" my mother's anxious voice asked.
"Yes, Mom, I'm here and I'm fine. Seattle's a nice little city, you'd like it. Though they weren't lying when they said it rains all the time." I closed the curtains to avoid having to look at the cloudy gray sky.
"Very good, dear. I have your sisters over for dinner."
"Discussing how much you miss me already?" I teased.
"I just want to keep the rest of my family as close as I can," she said, only half-joking.
"Well, I just wanted to check in with you. I'm already feeling the jet lag. Love you," I said, trying to avoid a litany of "why we'll miss you" from my mother. She was a mistress of guilt trips.
"You get some rest, Der. You need to be on your game to negotiate with Richard tomorrow. Send him my regards! I love you too!" she said hurriedly. It sounded like one of my nieces – probably Candace's youngest, Jillian – was getting into my mother's Precious Moments collection.
I hung up the phone and began eating my dinner. The five-hour flight had left New York at 4:30, which meant it was probably that although it was only 7:30 here on the West Coast, it was 10:30 in…I refused to call it home. Back there.
I quickly put some things in the closet and in the bathroom, and organized my briefcase for the morning. Luckily the Archfield was very close to the rental car place, so after breakfast with Richard I would be scouting out some properties to rent with a real estate contact. After that, I would head to the department store to get everything I couldn't bring with me from New York. I wanted to get out of that suite as soon as possible, and into a real house.
As I drifted off to sleep, I briefly wondered what Addison was doing back at home. Some evil part of me wanted her to be suffering. My conscience dogged me, though – was it really all her fault? Doesn't it take two to send a marriage to hell?
No, I thought. She always had a choice. She could have chosen to make it better – but she didn't. She chose to make it worse.
I woke up the next morning exhausted. I hadn't slept well, tossing and turning and waking up a lot during the night. I got ready for lunch with Richard, and hoped against all hope it didn't show.
Though it wasn't technically an interview – Richard needed me for the job much more than I needed the job – I dressed in my favorite suit (one of the few Addison hadn't bought me). I inspected myself in the mirror. Hair perfect, as always. Suit fit well and looked professional, authoritative, and no-nonsense. There weren't even bags or dark circles under my eyes. I grinned.
I left the Archfield and walked two blocks down the street to the rental car station. A young man with shaggy hair (he could use a lesson or two in hair care) was behind the counter, looking apathetic.
"Hi, my name is Derek Shepherd, and I reserved a town car," I said, looking at my watch.
The clerk typed lackadaisically at the computer.
"Derek Shepherd, you said?" I nodded.
"Um, yeah, there's been, like, a problem. You see, we, uh, overbooked our sedans. It's like, some thing with a bunch of hospital interns all coming into town, and like, there's also this photography convention in town…"
I shook my head. "So what does this mean to me? I don't have a car?"
"Well, we, um, have some cars left. But, um, it's a Jeep."
I shook my head in exasperation. "You know what, that'll be fine. I just need something."
I gave him my credit card, he filled out the necessary paperwork, and I suddenly had the keys to the tank.
I walked out to the lot, which, true to the clerk's word was for the most part empty - except for the behemoth lurking directly outside the door to the counter. This wasn't simply a Jeep – this looked like something right out of Desert Storm.
Trying to hold back the curses attempting to escape under my breath, I opened a door to the monster vehicle and swung a leg up. This was a far cry from the BMW I had left behind in New York.
You did say you wanted a fresh start, didn't you? a petulant voice in the back of my mind needled.
Unsurprisingly, sitting in the driver's seat felt like gazing from the top of Mount Everest. I stared at the gear shift – thankfully the BMW had a manual transmission so I would be able to drive the damn thing. But the shift pattern was bizarre - going from neutral to first was a zig-zag. It was going to be fun driving this thing.
When I reached Camparos, I hid my monster car in the back of the parking lot, in hopes that Richard would not be able to make fun of it if he couldn't see it. It was beginning to grow on me – it felt like I was driving on a pedestal, far above all other motorists.
The waitress took my name, and walked briskly back to a booth in the middle of the restaurant, far from either window. It was just like Richard to conduct business in private, where no one – colleague or rival – could spy on him.
When we finally got to the table, I asked the waitress for a black coffee and orange juice while Richard stood. She trotted off – it amazed me how fast people moved when they didn't have lives to save.
"Derek," Richard said, with a strong, authoritative handshake. "It feels like it's been so long."
"My mother sends her regards," I said, despite myself. She'd kill me if it got back to her that I hadn't, anyway.
"How is Carolyn doing?" he inquired. He had always held a soft spot for Mom, even if it wasn't quite as soft as hers was for him.
"Honestly, she's a little unhappy with my moving here, but other than that she's as well as can be."
"To be honest," Richard said, his face hard to read, "I'm a little surprised you jumped at the opportunity. I expected weeks of trying to tempt you out here."
"Well, after we settle my contract, maybe I'll enlighten you," I said, grinning. "For a price, of course."
"Naturally. I'm not going to beat around the bush – we both know you're the best there is. I can offer you $2 million a year, starting, with a salary evaluation every five years you stick with us. Seattle Grace has one of the best benefits packages – health insurance, life insurance, 3 weeks vacation – the works. We've got cutting-edge surgical technology and our residents are the best of the bunch. We provide research grants and if you want to be published, you'll get it."
"Who else do you have?"
"Our marquee surgeon is Preston Burke – cardiothoracics, graduated first in his class at Johns Hopkins. He's our Head of Cardio. You'll be in good company."
"Alright, Richard, all of that sounds great, but really, other than as a favor to you, why should I be here and not anywhere else in the country?"
"You're trying to see if I was kidding about the Chief of Surgery part."
"Well, you didn't bring it up, I felt it was necessary."
Richard sighed. "Well, Derek, naturally as one of my students I consider you the best, rankings notwithstanding. And when I retire, I want only the best to take up the office. The board has the final decision, but whoever I recommend just needs the nameplate on the desk. I don't know when I'm going to retire, Shep, and I can't promise it will be soon, but I want you here when I do."
"Well, Richard, you drive a hard bargain. But seeing as I'm here already, I suppose I can be your Head of Neurosurgery."
"Excellent, Derek. Here you are," he said, withdrawing the hefty contract and a pen from his briefcase.
"Now, just you wait a second," I said, my voice dangling the carrot. "I come from New York, the capital of litigation. I'll be faxing a copy to my lawyer before I go signing anything. Who knows what you could be having me agree to?"
Richard shook his head, but laughed. "I'm shocked you didn't bring your lawyer with you today."
"Well, there's a first time for everything."
"So, now that you've sucked the hospital dry, are you going to tell me why you're really here? Why you hopped on a plane after I just mention the words "Chief of Surgery"?"
I looked him in the eye. "Addison cheated on me. With my best friend." The words stung – with all of the Seattle business, it had been somewhat numbed.
Richard looked shocked. "Addie…you…no! God, Derek, I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, she is, too," I muttered sarcastically.
"Surely, she couldn't have meant it, Derek, you can't just run out here because she made a…"
"Richard," I said pleadingly. "Please don't tell me she just made a mistake. Because she seemed to be enjoying herself before I caught her. I cannot stand to be in her presence – it's over. I just want to get away from it all; I just want to go somewhere where no one knows my wife is an adulterous whore."
Richard flinched; he had been close with Addison, as she was another of his prodigies. But, to his credit, he didn't try to defend her again. Everyone eventually realized that I didn't think Addison deserved a second chance, and in this decision, my opinion was the only one that mattered.
We caught up over eggs Benedict, and Richard was careful not to mention Addison again. He talked about Adele, and his niece Camille's heartbreaking cancer diagnosis. I told him about my nieces and nephews, and my plans for Seattle.
"I'm honestly not sure where I'm going to live yet," I said. "Actually, after this I have an appointment with a realtor to go looking for some places."
"Well, if you see anything in Queen Anne's Hill, take it," Richard said helpfully. "It's a beautiful neighborhood. I used to…know someone who lived there."
I looked at my watch. "I'd better get going – don't want to be late to go buy a house." I shook Richard's hand again.
"Good to see you Derek," he said warmly. And then, suddenly, his tone resumed its businesslike tone. "Let me know as soon as your lawyer's looked at the contract. And, if you're interested, we're having a mixer for the new interns on Sunday night. It would be a good place to meet the staff and your students."
An intern mixer sounded like the exact opposite of what I'd like to do before my first day. Maybe fun for the neophytes, but for me it sounded suspiciously like chaperoning the middle school dance.
"Maybe, Richard. I'll see you Monday morning regardless."
"Great, Derek, but do yourself a favor and stop in Sunday afternoon regardless. I'll give you the keys to your office and give you the rundown."
"Great, I will." I stalked out of the restaurant, and sped out of the parking lot in the monster Jeep before Richard could get out to his car.
I felt bad for the realtor – she seemed nice enough, but she was clearly flustered when I turned down most of the nice homes in Seattle. Even one in Queen Anne's Hill, like Richard suggested – its many empty rooms only reminded me of the emptiness of the Manhattan brownstone.
"Is there anything else you can show me?" I said apologetically. I was sure the girl was cursing her luck.
"Well, there's some open land on Bainbridge Island – but all that's there is a trailer, and you'd have to take a ferry to get to Seattle Grace. I really don't think it's what you're in the market for."
"How much land?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
The realtor stumbled a moment while she tried to figure out why I was suddenly so interested. "Forty acres, I think?"
"Can you show me?"
"Dr. Shepherd, it's going to take at least a half an hour to get there, and I really don't think that it would be a suitable match –"
"Great, let's go." I was excited. While it had its drawbacks, Seattle was gorgeous, and to have all that wild west wilderness in my backyard would be phenomenal. I'd always loved camping with my father up until his death. The situation seemed perfect. No large, looming house to remind me of my failed marriage – but room to build one when I found the right one. And though my sisters would be mortified to learn that I was living in a trailer, the idea just seemed cozy to me. Room for me – and no one else. Especially not the memories.
When we finally arrived, I bounded out of the car like a kid and looked at the view from the hill. It was beautiful – you could see the whole city from here. The longer commute and less than glamorous living conditions were a small price to pay. There was room for my thoughts to get lost and never come back. There was room for a new future, a new Derek, a new life.
I ran to the trailer, which the realtor had unlocked while trying to contain her amusement. It wasn't much, but it was enough for me. My own space, free of Addison – I'd take what I could get.
"Sold," I told the flabbergasted real estate agent.
Author's Note: So, there you go! I always wondered why Derek, after living the high life in New York, would live in a trailer in the woods, but I think as I wrote this part it became more clear. In his effort to get his mind off of Addison, he's choosing to live his life in a way Addison never would.
Like I said, I'm sorry for the delays, but now that life is back on track we'll be entering the Grey's Anatomy canon – and then straying from it a bit. What's in store for you, fair readers? Well, I'll dangle some spoilers to keep you guys interested – we're going to learn why Derek kept his marriage from Meredith. And for the first time, we're going to get a good look at Mer through Derek's eyes. I've started watching the first season over again (so thankful I got Seasons 1-5 on DVD for Christmas – it makes research a lot easier! I rewatched the last episode in the William Dunn arc in order to properly describe the War Machine (my pet name for Derek's jeep)) and the adoration Derek has for Meredith really shows, if you're looking for it. I assure you, if you're looking for a new way to watch old Grey's, just watch the body language of the characters! You know the story, but watching the characters really gives you insight into their true feelings. But anyway, I am rambling. Happy reading!