"What do you fancy doing today?" Derek asked as he escorted Meredith from her house to his motorcycle. It was a cold almost-spring morning and he immediately noticed how Meredith hadn't layered up like usual and was dressed in colours other than black or near black. "Haven't got yourself a hot date, have you?" he remarked jokingly.

Meredith elbowed him gently in the ribs, earning an exaggerated grunt in return. "Psh," she responded. "Can a girl not look like a Goth for one day and avoid being harassed by her boyfriend?"

Derek raised his eyebrow. "One time when I said you looked good in blue, you told me to 'eat shit'."

"Maybe because it was such a putrid shade of blue," Meredith said light-heartedly. "Back onto the subject of what we should do, though, I have an idea."

When she didn't immediately continue, Derek prompted, "Go on." He lifted the helmets from where he had dumped them earlier and began to unfasten them.

"I thought it'd be nice," Meredith hesitated, "That it would be good to see my father today."

Derek nodded encouragingly. "What's brought this on?"

"I keep on saying I will but I've been back in town for almost half a year and haven't kept to my word." Meredith shrugged. "Plus my mom's been getting more and more irritated at my existence. It would help to have one parent on my side."

"You want to talk about it?" Derek asked tenderly, referring to Ellis. Meredith shook her head so Derek changed the subject again, "Are we going to ambush him then or does he know we're coming?"

"He doesn't know," Meredith said. "You make it sound worse when you say it like that. Surely it won't be that bad. He won't despise me for it, will he?"

Derek could see Meredith beginning to overanalyse the situation already. He needed to stop her before she got paranoid again and refused to make any advances.

"No Mer," he assured. "It's the best way; he won't be able to avoid you or any questions you may have."

"I have got a lot of questions," Meredith said to herself.

"Do you know what you're going to say to him?"

"Other than 'Hey dad, it's your daughter that you've probably forgotten about.'? No, I haven't."

"You're exaggerating."

"I'm not," Meredith said stubbornly.

"Did you even read the letter he left you?" Derek asked. "I think it's pretty harsh to say that he'd ever forget you. You're quite memorable Meredith Grey."

"And you're so cheesy," Meredith mumbled under her breath. When Derek chuckled, she knew he had heard her, so she argued her case further, "I know what he wrote. I've read that letter so many times I think I could quote it if I wanted to. But it's so much different to write something down in a letter – a letter he wasn't sure I'd ever receive – than to actually mean it. It's been so many years and until recently I was convinced that he hated me and left to avoid responsibility. And, in all honesty, it still seems like he did. I can't help but be suspicious Derek."

Derek cut her off before she could continue. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be cautious. You haven't seen him in ten years. But you should give him a chance before you judge him and say he's forgotten your existence."

There was a moment when Derek thought he may have overstepped the line. But he wouldn't let Meredith back out again. He knew she needed some stability in her life and, since her mother was devoid of any emotion, Thatcher Grey was the answer. He just wanted what was best for her.

"Come on," he urged. He handed her a helmet and began putting his own on. "Ready?"

Meredith nodded, pulling the visor down and climbing onto the back of Derek's bike.

It had taken less than ten minutes to ride the short journey across the suburbs to where Thatcher lived with his new family. Meredith cursed this fact since her mind was still spinning from her discussion with Derek. She knew he was saying everything with her best interests at heart and he was speaking a lot of sense, but it annoyed her how he hadn't taken her side.

Hopping off the bike, Meredith looked at the house in front of her, wanting to see what it said about her father. It was the typical American home; it wasn't too large but it was two storeys high with an extensive front lawn that was perfectly maintained, no doubt by Thatcher's wife. The flowers surrounding the front door were tasteful, complimenting the green panels that covered the exterior of the house. The interior would indisputably be homely and welcoming with knick-knacks and family photos spread throughout, each having their own story or meaning that didn't include Meredith. There were ten years' worth of memories without her, she realised, and that fact was quite daunting.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Meredith noticed Derek leaning against a tree and staring at her intently. His hair was perfectly styled and he had on his favourite leather jacket, making her wonder how he could look so mature at the age of seventeen. She gave him an amused look and stated, "It's time to go in."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked. His tone was so kind and reassuring that Meredith instantly forgot any anger she had and instead gained the courage to shake her head and begin walking up the pathway to the house.

When she reached the front door, she looked back one last time to send Derek a smile. She turned back and rapped lightly on the door. It was only a few seconds before the door was opened widely and a golden haired woman stood in front of Meredith. She had on a genuine smile and was wearing clothes so bright that Meredith winced on instinct.

"Hello, may I help you?" the woman asked. She couldn't have been much older than forty – around the same age as both of Meredith's parents – and was seemingly unaware that the girl in front of her was her step-daughter.

"I'm looking for, uh, Thatcher Grey," Meredith said, her voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

"He's not here at the moment," she answered. "I'm his wife, though. Could I pass on a message?"

Meredith debated what to do. She hadn't considered the possibility that her father wouldn't be there. She mentally berated herself for her stupidity. "Will he be long?"

"He's picking up our daughters from my mother's. He shouldn't be longer than half an hour," she said. "You can come inside and wait if you want."

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Meredith said quietly. "I've got someone waiting for me as well." She gestured to where Derek was waiting outside, talking on his phone. Upon seeing her, he waved and signalled that he was almost finished.

Thatcher's wife shook her head. "It wouldn't be intruding, dear. Bring your friend too. I'll put on the kettle."

"Thank you." Meredith was well aware of how kind her step-mother was; she could only hope she remained that way when she found out the truth. "I'll just be a minute."

"Of course. I'll be in the kitchen. The door's open."

Meredith nodded politely and walked back down to Derek, who had got off the phone and was looking at her oddly.

"What happened?" he asked as soon as she was in hearing distance.

"He's not home. I'm waiting for him inside. You're invited too." Meredith gestured for him to follow but when he didn't, she gave him a questioning look.

"My dad called. He needs some help at the store." He looked regretful before adding, "If you need me to stay, I can tell him to rope Amelia in."

"No, it's fine," Meredith said in response. "I can handle this. She seems genuinely nice, not an evil step-mother at least."

Derek chuckled and pecked her on the cheek. "If you need any help, just call. And I will see you later tonight so you can tell me how it all goes. I'm sure my mother would love for you to come around for dinner again. She's been practically begging me."

Meredith smiled and said, "I'll see you later."

She watched Derek drive off after he promised that he would send Amelia to pick her up when she was finished and said a final goodbye. She sighed nervously and made her way back up to the house, opening the door and heading to the kitchen where Thatcher's wife was opening a packet of biscuits.

"Where's your friend?" she asked.

"He had to go to work."

"Is he your boyfriend?"

Meredith thought it was quite a nosy question to ask someone they had just met, but she relented nevertheless, "Yeah, we've been together for just over two months."

"That's nice." There was a pause. "Honey, you can go wait in the living room. I won't be a minute."

Meredith nodded and exited the room. She found her way through to the living room solely because the layout was so similar to Cristina's house. Unlike Cristina's house, however, the room was much brighter with fewer designer pieces, all of the furniture having been worn down through use.

There was a large TV in the corner and two patterned couches positioned opposite it. She could imagine Saturday nights being spent there watching sitcoms or quiz shows and having meaningless arguments with each other, something she had craved in her childhood while her mother worked relentlessly. Around the room there were multiple coffee tables, each scattered with odd books or photo frames. Meredith hovered for a moment before she began looking at the photos, her curiosity about her family being greater than her awkwardness.

She had just finished looking at a photo of Thatcher, his wife, and their two daughters at Disneyland when his wife walked through the door carrying a tray adorned with coffee and little nibbles. She saw Meredith looking at the pictures and commented, "That was the girls' favourite holiday. It was just after Lexie had turned four and little Molly was only two."

Meredith nodded at the information, noting which sister was which and wondering how different they looked now. "How long ago was it?"

"Must have been five years ago," she said. "Lexie's just celebrated her ninth birthday. She suddenly thinks she's a grown up." She laughed at the thought.

Meredith smiled awkwardly, hoping it seemed genuine. It seemed Lexie was born when Meredith was six; the same year her father had left her. She felt a sting of pain from the realisation.

"Sorry, I've just realised I haven't introduced myself. I'm Susan Grey." She reached out her hand for Meredith to shake, which she did after a moment's hesitation.

Meredith opened her mouth to reply when another photo caught her eye. It was older than the others, taken with a Polaroid camera but still treated with the same care given the smart wooden frame it was held in. The subject of the photo was a young girl with frizzy golden hair and sparkling green eyes riding a red tricycle.

Susan noticed Meredith's shift of attention and explained, "That's Thatcher's daughter from his first marriage, Meredith. I haven't actually met her; her mother took her away to Boston just after Thatcher and I married and I fell pregnant with Lexie."

"Didn't you try to keep in contact?" Meredith knew that her question would be perceived as prying by Susan but she needed to know before her identity was exposed.

Susan took no offence and answered honestly, "We tried. We even tried to reopen the custody case but the judges wouldn't allow it. It's been so long now, I'm sure she hates us anyway."

Meredith looked at Susan to see the sad expression on her face. She could see how badly Susan blamed herself for the separation even though she hadn't said so. She wanted desperately to console her. "I'm sure she doesn't. She'd understand that you tried."

Nodding slowly, Susan wiped away the formations of tears from her eyes. She reached down to the tray and picked up her coffee. "I'm sorry, I don't even know you and I'm spilling my guts here. Did I even ask you your name?"

"No you didn't," Meredith said. She wasn't sure how to introduce herself without seeing like an imposter. She decided to sit down on one of the couches and lay her head in her hands before turning back to look at Susan, whose confusion was evident on her face. "This is going to sound unbelievable. But I am, uh, I'm–"

"No, it's not possible," Susan interrupted, shock marring her delicate features. "It really can't be possible."

"I, uh–"

"Meredith, is that you?"

Unable to find her voice, Meredith nodded and straight away found herself pulled into an embrace by her step-mother.

"How did you get here? When did you arrive? How did you find us?"

The questions were never ending. Susan had soon pulled out of the hug she had been sharing with Meredith to begin asking causing Meredith to sigh before she began to explain.

"My mother and I, we moved back in September for my sophomore year in school. She got a job at Seattle Grace so we went back to our old house."

"September," Susan said pensively. "She didn't call us."

"I wouldn't have expected her to. I think it's still a sore subject for her."

"So how did you find us? Did you ask her?"

"I wouldn't dare. Our relationship isn't perfect at the moment," Meredith explained. "My boyfriend was walking down your road one evening and saw Thatcher coming home from work and talked to him."

"That's odd. I don't remember Thatcher saying anything about that," she huffed. "I swear, if he's known you've been here and has kept it secret–"

"He hasn't," Meredith said. "Derek didn't say who he was and there's no reason that Thatcher would remember him. He has changed quite a bit from when he was a kid."

"You and your boyfriend know each other from childhood?" Susan asked distractedly.

"Yeah, we're neighbours."

"That's sweet," she gushed. "There's so much we don't know about you. And so much you don't know about us."

Meredith gave a half smile, feeling overwhelmed at Susan's reaction. "I guess we should get to know each other."

"We should wait for the others so you can tell your father." She glanced at the watch on her wrist and exclaimed, "I don't know if I can wait that long. Where is he?"

"What would you like to know?" Meredith wasn't sure what she expected to happen; she hadn't realised just how much catching up there would be. She had never been too open about her personal life, with only a few people being privy to her family troubles, so she didn't know just how much she would need to share.

Meredith could see Susan racking her brains for the most important question to ask first. "When did you dye your hair pink?"

Frowning at the odd question, Meredith explained, "I did it just before I entered high school. I thought it might be interesting to 'reinvent' myself. Quite a few people couldn't recognise me at first."

"Your natural hair colour was beautiful though." She looked away and blushed before adding, "I mean, from what I can see from the photos."

That comment provoked curiosity in Meredith and she wondered how much evidence of his past life Thatcher kept. She had seen one photo already proudly on display; she could only imagine which other ones he had kept and where. "How many photos are there?"

"There's a whole photo album of them somewhere." Susan stood up and began rummaging around in various storage containers. She finally produced a soft pink book and handed it to Meredith.

Meredith stared at the photo album, letting her fingers run across the lace that decorated the front. Ellis Grey, as would be expected, did not keep any photo albums and called them 'sentimental pieces of crap'. At their house, Meredith had only found two pictures of her youth, one of which was her birth picture.

The very same picture was the first that appeared when she opened the book.

"Six pounds and ten ounces, born twelve days before the due date, and apparently wouldn't stop screaming for two days," Susan recited.

"I didn't know you took such an interest in me," Meredith said, touched that someone who didn't need to be involved had willingly done so.

"Of course I would," Susan said matter-of-factly. She turned the page, revealing the next picture of a new born Meredith being held by her father who looked at her adoringly. She was wrapped up in a lavender coloured blanket and her mouth was slightly agape. "It's hard not to when you see how much your father cares for you."

Meredith nodded and flipped the page again. This time it was a three year old running across a yard towards a group of children. They were far off in the background but Meredith could easily identify Derek and Nancy among them. She pointed this out to Susan and laughed when Susan made a joke about how a four year old could have such good hair.

They were halfway through the album and Meredith was feeling more and more comfortable when the sound of a car pulling up outside burst her bubble. "That should be Thatcher now," Susan acknowledged.

The sudden feeling of dread overcame Meredith. She felt her fingers grip on the photo album increase; it felt like they would fall off along with every other part of her body. Despite her eagerness to meet her father, to feel the same comfort as she felt from Susan and from Derek's entire family, she couldn't help the thoughts inside her mind telling her to jump out the closest window and bolt down the road in order to avoid the man.

Susan saw Meredith's anxiousness, wrapping a supportive arm around her shoulder and said, "He's a lovely man, Meredith. You need to give him a chance; he'll win you over eventually with his nonsensical babbling."

Meredith forced out a laugh and tried to convince herself she wasn't nervous. She was only seeing her father. It shouldn't have this effect on her.

The front door rattled from the sound of keys clanging in the lock. There was no hesitation before it was pushed open and two girls ran through, followed by Thatcher, who was a little out of breath. The two girls giggled loudly at their father before running up the stairs, shouting about whom would play 'Gino' and whom would play 'Pippa', both arguing to play the former.

Thatcher turned to the kitchen and dropped the two sequined bags by the large table. He turned around and made his way to where Meredith and Susan were sitting. Meredith turned her face away from him in an attempt to prevent an outburst of hyperventilation. From beside her, Susan said, "Hello dear. How are the girls? Did they treat mom well?"

"They were a little hyper," he replied, his voice being exactly the same as it had been when Meredith was a child. The same voice that would read her the gruesome fairy tales instead of the more children-friendly versions and wish her good luck on her first day of kindergarten. Meredith had to concentrate to not relive those memories. "Dinah was-wasn't the happiest when I saw them."

He hiccupped and Meredith smiled from behind the curtain she had made from her hair. Susan noticed and raised an eyebrow at Meredith's behaviour, only causing Thatcher to focus on the guest in front of him.

"So, who've we got here?" he questioned, moving to stand in front of Meredith, whose hair still managed to act as a barrier between the two. "Is she ok?"

Knowing she couldn't keep the charade up any longer and that Susan would spill the beans if she didn't do anything herself, Meredith lifted her head so that she was staring her father directly in his eyes. His face had aged slightly from some of the pictures around the room and from her memory, but there was no doubt that the man in front of her was her father. In what Cristina would call a 'gross display of human emotion', Meredith felt her eyes prick from the beginning of tears and a small smile graced her features.

It was a second before recognition kicked in and Thatcher's face contorted with confusion. "Meredith," his words echoing his wife's earlier ones, "Is that you?"

A/N: FINALLY MEREDITH GOES TO SEE HER FATHER! It took way too damn long... And sorry in advance for the cliffhanger (I promise you I will update it before the month is over!)

On the other hand, I found it surprisingly nive to write Susan - she was such a lovely character in the show.

I know this reaction is a bit late, but MCDREAMY :'( :'(

And danke schoen for the sweet reviews :) xxxx