Chapter 75: The Plague and Getting Back Together

"I hope that's not your job too," she hissed, folding her arms over her chest. "Because I swear, I'd fire you!"

"Meredith," he chuckled. "Are you actually going to blame me for the plague?"

"Right now, I'm not sure about anything," she shrugged her shoulders, walking to the opposite part of the room. "You did tell me you're a man of action."

Yeah, right, he complained in his thoughts. He didn't see any action… since last year.

"Sorry to disappoint you but my power doesn't reach that far," he quipped, trailing a few steps behind her. "Besides, you barged into my exam room and stole my patient on your own will. But I understand. You couldn't resist, you just want me that much." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Narrowing her eyes to the point when they resembled slits, she took a deep breath. "Firstly," she began, counting on her fingers, "I did not steal your patient. I am the Chief and as such every patient is mine, got it, Dr. Shepherd? Secondly, I do not want you," she lied easily. "Get over yourself already. Thirdly, since when have you become Mark Sloan's twin?"

She expected another clever answer but instead his face sobered up, "Maybe since he can easily keep the woman he loves, and I can't."

"Derek, I…" she trailed off, her eyes avoiding his. "I need to know what's going on in my hospital!

"What?" Derek frowned at her disbelievingly.

"The plague might be raging around," she gesticulated wildly and knocked on the door to catch the attention of the ICD worker guarding the room. "Hello? Do you hear me? I'm-"

Meanwhile, Derek sat heavily on the bench between the rows of lockers. He was thankful fate gave him this opportunity to be alone with Meredith. Only now he started to wonder if he was going to survive it and not throw himself at her, not necessarily with a pleasant intent.

From the first minute of her internship, Miranda Bailey knew there was never a dull moment at a hospital, especially at Seattle Grace Hospital. Not only because of people rushed in twenty-four hours seven days a week, with stunning injuries or rare diseases. It wasn't only about saving lives, it was about life itself, life that was a constant surprise, even now.

"Hey, what's up this time?" asked Miranda with the usual disapproval and impatience. She just encountered a wall of her colleagues' backs on her way and was well aware it wasn't a random meeting.

"Ah, Dr. Bailey," smiled charmingly Mark, a wad of cash in his hands. "You want in on the bet, I presume?"

"What bet?"

"The bet on whether Shepherd's gonna break Grey before the end of the quarantine," said Cristina pointing behind her shoulder where two men in white were guarding the door to the locker room where Derek and Meredith were currently stuck. "I'm saying she's tough, she's gonna hold him by the balls a little longer."

"Wait, wait a minute!" interrupted Miranda, fighting to keep a straight face. "The Chief… and Derek… are in quarantine? Together?"

She burst out laughing when the silent smirks of her fellow surgeons confirmed the latest gossip item.

"And you're all standing here because?" she asked drying the corners of her eyes, hilarity still shaking her frame.

"Because if Derek does his job right," grinned Mark. "We'll hear it."

"Hear it?"

Mark leaned in slightly as though he was sharing a secret. "I spent a couple of nights under the same roof, and let me tell you," he winced at the memory, "they're screa-"

"Stop, stop!" Miranda raised her hands to shut him up. "I don't want to hear about your dirty business." Her face scrunched in disgust. "But you can count me in," she muttered reaching into her pocket for some banknotes. "On Shepherd."

"Meredith? Can you just please sit down so we can talk?" asked Derek for the hundredth time from the bench he was spread on. He knew there was little chance she'd actually grant his request, but he figured maybe the constant whining would tire her out.

"And can you just please desist for a minute?" she mocked him, continuing her pacing around the room. "We were exposed to the plague."

"They don't know it's the plague," sighed Derek sitting up, his legs on both sides of the bench.

"So, the men in the white suits, what, making a fashion statement?" she snapped. "The fact that you have suicidal tendencies, like… refusing to evacuate when there's a bomb next to you, doesn't mean I do too!"

"Mer, you know it's only a precaution. When the blood work comes back will be… out," he assured.

"If the results don't indicate that woman has the plague," remarked hotly Meredith stopping near the end of the bench to tap her foot.

"Then we get the plague and die in here in each other's arms with the crappy benches, dirty scrubs and the lockers full of old food," he sent her a radiant smile.

"Great," she muttered dryly. "How romantic."

"On the other hand," took up Derek, his eyes twinkling. "I'm a doctor, you know. You can tell me your symptoms if you feel unwell. If your pulse rapid? Are you… hot? I can feel you."

"Seriously?" she huffed. "No, you're not going to feel me!" She whirled on her heel and looked at the door expectantly. In vain. She hears a deep tired sigh behind her instead and she felt instantly guilty. Since the moment they ended up here, she kept turning him down, over and over, whether he was being serious or flirty. If only she wasn't so messed up, so absolutely confused and at loss what to do… She listened into the silence Derek lapsed into… and she was missing his cocky insistent voice. She was missing him so damn much since the day she screwed everything up.

She remembered the time when they could talk about virtually everything. They could try the same now… Only how was she supposed to bring it all up to him?

"I'm scared," she spoke up weakly.

"What?" asked gently Derek, clearly surprised by her statement. "Meredith, I'm positive the risk of us going down with the plague is minimal-"

"I'm not talking about the plague, Derek," she cut him off, facing him yet again. "I'm not talking about the plague. I'm talking about us."

"Oh, I'm sorry," mumbled George trying to regain his balance as he barreled into Izzie in the middle of the corridor. "I'm kinda in a hurry, I've just got the test results."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Izzie quickly caught his sleeve before he ran off, and exchanged looks with Cristina. "You mean the test results for the plague? What do they say?"

"Fortunately, they're negative," George took a deep breath. "Neither of our patients has the plague, neither of our doctors has the plague so excuse me, I still have Dr. Grey and Dr. Shepherd to inform. She'll be pretty pissed already she's getting to know last."

"George! You can't do that!" Izzie shook her head, firmly holding his arm in her grip.

"Are you insane, Iz?" he eyed her as if she truly were.

"Look, she and Derek are together now," explained Izzie. "They finally have a chance to talk. Let's not take that away from them!"

"Izzie," George's voice took an authoritative note. "They are in quarantine! They are locked up in a room when they don't have to be."

"That's a minor detail," laughed Izzie airily. "What counts is that they have some privacy at the very long last, you know, alone time… alone alone…"

"Oh my… oh my God!" squeaked George, his eyes going wide. "You're… you're pimps!"

"We're not pimps!" the blond glared at him indignantly.

"We kinda are," admitted Cristina.

"Are you standing here all the time?" demanded George, utterly scandalized.

"No," chuckled Izzie. "We're taking turns!"

"Okay, you've completely lost it," commented George and made to turn away.

"George!" Cristina blocked his way. "So, they don't have the plague. Who says they're completely healthy?"

"Yeah, right, can you move, please?" George tried to step around her unsuccessfully.

"Seriously," she insisted putting her hands on his arms with a gloomy expression on her face. "They have a terrible condition."

"A terrible condition?" he repeated sarcastically.

"Yeah, very dangerous, very debilitating," she nodded.

Izzie gave her a puzzled look over George's head, but she only hushed her.

"The symptoms are bit different depending on the gender."

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked George.

"I'm sure you suffer- ugh, heard about it," she nodded sympathetically. "It's commonly known as… blue balls or blue boobs."

Izzie giggled madly while George's jaw fell down slackly.

"You don't want to catch that, Georgie, right?" cooed Cristina.

"I have… no words…"

"Well, good then," smiled resolutely Cristina. "You don't need to use them."

"Please, George," pleaded Izzie. "Let's do this for Dr. Grey."

George let out a deep calming breath. "Fine," he caved in. "But, if it gets to her, I'm telling her I was in surgery while you," he squinted his eyes at them, "you were supposed to inform them the quarantine was over!"

"Thanks George! You're the best," grinned widely Izzie.

"And I'm taking off the ICD people," he threw marching off.

"Good," nodded Cristina. "I really want to win this bet; I'll make a fortune."

"I did it for Meredith and Derek," frowned Izzie.

"Good for you," quipped Cristina rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

"I'm so scared," repeated quietly Meredith and sighed. She was too tired to resist any longer.

Derek surveyed her for a moment in silence and was just about to jump to his feet when she beat him to it, gently plumping on the bench, facing him with determination.

"Meredith, I understand," he assured and after a brief hesitation, delicately covered her hand with his, ready to strengthen his grasp if she tried to evade once again. "I perfectly understand that you don't trust me anymore. I failed your trust. I had been… drunk with everything that was happening between us and… and I was careless. I should have never let her go that far, but I swear… I swear I never encouraged her! You're scared I'm going to hurt you again, but if you give me, us, just one more chance, we could-"

"No!" Meredith shook her head violently unable to stand his words. "No! No!"

He paled at her reaction; his heart thumped loudly in his ears. "Meredith, please, don't say that-"

"Derek, you don't understand a single thing," she sniffed, her thumb caressing slowly the skin of his palm. "I'm not scared of being hurt; I don't care about me.

"How can you say that?" he breathed out, shaking his frowning head.

"I can because I'm accustomed to that," she argued. "I can live with that; I can live with my own hurt. What I can't live with… is hurting you."

Derek opened his lips, but no sound came out.

"Funny, huh?" she snorted. "But finally, Derek, I'm telling you the truth. I can't live hurting you, it's past my endurance. And I… I've already hurt you enough, it's enough for a lifetime."

"Mer," he whispered and reached out to push away a stray tendril of her blond hair that fell over her face when she hung her head down guiltily.

"Don't deny that," she pleaded him softly. "Because there's something seriously wrong with me if I didn't trust the man that I love."

A thousand happy butterflies swirled in his stomach at her confession. Hearing that she loved him from her own lips was like finding water after hours of wandering through a scorching desert.

"I hurt you, so much, that's why I wanted to disappear from your life," she confessed. "But now I've got to stay… and I just don't know anymore… I don't know what is going to hurt you more… if I keep pushing you away or if we're going to get together and I hurt you again someday…"

"Oh, Meredith," he scooped forward to gather her in his arms, their position on the bench making her straddle him. A sigh of relief escaped him when she didn't resist. She was soft and pliant in his hands letting him mold her against his harder body. Yet he could feel she didn't relax fully against him as her arms stopped cautiously at his shoulders. She was back in his embrace though and that sole realization was mind-blowing. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into her hair, relishing the moment.

"Meredith, God, I love you… so much," he whispered passionately as he broke their tight hug to cup her face and look deep into her eyes. She trembled and blinked her green orbs at him. "I admit those months were… they were hell. Because you were missing at my side. I love you; I want you and I need you like the air. If you don't want to hurt me, please, come back to me. There is no light for me in this world if I don't see it reflected in your eyes. I can't live without you anymore."

She shut her eyelids tightly as she fought the sobs that were threatening to overtake her. He took advantage of her small surrender and inched closer to her lips. He left her the choice, he moved so slowly she could jerk away feeling his breath on her face. She didn't.

Goosebumps erupted all over her skin as his lips brushed hers ephemerally. Their lips slid against each other for a brief while but neither dared to deepen the kiss. Even this small contact though was enough to make them both lightheaded, making their blood pressure skyrocket.

When they finally pulled back, they looked at each other with their eyes lidded dazedly, in perfect silence. Time and space ceased to exist until…

"I love you," she whispered, her cheeks flushed brightly. It felt divine to utter those three little big words again.

He smiled ever so gently and ducked his head to steal another kiss. Before their lips met, however, she stopped him placing her index finger on his lips.

He backed his head and looked at her expectantly.

"Derek, if…" she tried to gather her thoughts. "If we're going… to do this… again, we have to do it right. We can't go through that once more, just… no."

"I know," Derek nodded understandingly. "We'll make it work."

"It means… we have to go slow," she told him seriously. "We need to know what we're doing. No flying blind."

"Okay," he nodded. He'd agree to anything just to be with her.

"It also means I have to fix myself," she sighed a little dejectedly. "I can't do something like this again."

"Meredith, we were both at fault."

She smiled at him slightly, not willing to pick another fight. He was just that guy who took blame on himself when evidently it belonged solely to her. "My point is that we'll take it slow, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed with a nod of his head. "What now?"

"Now?" she asked breathlessly as his intent regard was heating up her skin again.

They stared at each other, the air between them heavy with longing. It was just too long. Their lips were pulled forward like magnets.

"What is the news on the battle front?" asked Mark joining Addison and their colleagues at the nurses' station.

"No news," replied Addison, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee her boyfriend perched in front of her.

"No news?" he repeated with clear astonishment and a concerned frown on his forehead. "Not a scream?"

"No," she answered dryly.

"Moan?"

"No."

"Whimper?"

"Mark!"

"Sorry," he muttered. "Either Derek has lost his touch… or his life."

"Me thinks you lost your bet," cooed Cristina wiping non-existent tears from her face.

"So, no one knows what's going on in there?" asked Mark.

"Worried about your little buddy much?" Cristina went on pitilessly. "Keep your pants on. The worst he could get is castration," she snorts, knowing that in Mark Sloan's books it would be equal with capital punishment.

"Maybe someone should check up on them…" wondered loudly Addison looking around at their friends who suddenly avoided her eyes.

"Right, and when Grey catches us with no ICD worker in the vicinity, she'll throw a fit!"

"Oh, for the love of God!" They turned around to see Bailey standing behind them shaking her head. "Are you still here? Get a life!"

"Dr. Bailey," greeted her Mark enthusiastically. "Perhaps you could check on them-"

"And have my head cut off?" Miranda raised her eyebrows. "No, thank you. I think I'll pass."

"Sssh," Izzie who just appeared on the scene. "The door's opening."

All heads whipped in that direction just in time to see Meredith Grey appear in the doorway fighting with the tape that had prevented anyone from entering the room, with, no surprise there, a furious expression on her face.

They immediately busied themselves with scanning charts, admiring patterns on coffee cups, chatting about the weather, and generally pretending not to notice their Chief.

The Chief, however, did notice them, halted behind and waited for them to face her with their little guilty faces. They didn't. She tapped her foot impatiently sending subtle signals not to cross her further.

"Oh, hi, Mer," Addison was first to "notice" her.

"Chief."

"Afternoon, Chief."

"Chief, we didn't see you," stated Mark in a relaxed manner.

"And I wonder why was that" she snorted and folder her arms. "At this point I have to warn you, your every word can be used against you. And no, you do not have the right to remain silent."

They threw apprehensive looks at each other, followed with the accusing ones, trying to find a scapegoat.

"WHY THE HELL NO ONE BOTHERED TO TELL ME THE QUARANTINE WAS OVER?" she bellowed making the group before her cringe.

"You were in quarantine?" asked Cristina.

"We thought somebody already told you," assured Izzie at the same time.

All hell would have certainly broken loose at the complete fiasco to provide a credible excuse hadn't Derek strolled up to Meredith stopping inches behind her, too close not to peek the universal curiosity.

"Don't test my patience," spat Meredith, in a tone more civilized than she had intended, blaming Derek and his proximity.

"Didn't you like your company?" chuckled Mark before doubling in pain feeling Addison's sharp heel dig into his foot. He forgot that his girlfriend took after her sister in some respects.

"Thank you, Addison," she gave her a false smile which soon transformed into a glare. "This is your last warning, do not push my buttons! Otherwise, the consequences will be grievous, as well as immortalized in your files!" She whizzed on her heel to stalk off but crashed against Derek's hard chest instead. He caught her quickly in balance sneaking his arms around her. They missed her all too much since they held her, no more than five minutes before.

"We'll talk… uhm, later," she cleared her throat and walked away as he reluctantly let go.

"So?" demanded Addison feverishly leaning curiously as Meredith's footsteps died away.

Derek sighed deeply watching everyone huddling closer with sheer curiosity and hunger for gossip.

"So?" repeated Derek innocently.

"Did you? or didn't you?" prompted him, Mark.

"Don't know what you're talking about," chuckled Derek.

"Don't test my patience, Shepherd!" warned Mark in perfect imitation of Meredith making others giggle. "We risked our necks for you! O'Malley was here with the test results a good couple of hours ago."

"Thanks," laughed Derek and eyed his colleagues leniently. They were suckers for gossip, but he was grateful. They did stay by him when he needed support and didn't hesitate to reach out a helping hand. And it should be remembered Meredith wasn't the right person to piss off. He held his breath and announced happily, "We made up."

He was immediately dragged closer while everyone was laughing and patting him on the back in congratulations.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down," grinned Mark appreciatively counting his money.

"Not so fast, Sloan!" yelled Cristina and turned to Derek, a professional expression on her face. "So… this making up… what exactly did that entail?"

Derek frowned opening his mouth a little as he realized what Yang was hinting at. Now, they were going a bit too far with their concern…

"Oh, come on, Shepherd," smirked Cristina. "One word of yours and Sloan's sinking faaast," she made a diving gesture with her hand.

He rolled his eyes exhaling loudly. "We're taking it… slow," he admitted.

"Ha!" Yang let out a triumphant exclamation.

"Wait a minute!" frowned Mark. "What does slow mean?"

"Exactly what it means," snorted Cristina and yanked the cash from his hand. "Come to mommy!"

"You didn't…?" Mark squinted at him as everyone started to disperse. "How come?"

Derek chuckled to himself revisiting the memories from the last half hour. How come indeed.

Their lips were pulled forward like magnets. They couldn't stay apart; they were calling for each other with all the desperation and longing of the past months. Soon, the light touch was not enough. Once the fire was burning, eternal and sacred, it consumed everything. Their kiss grew more insistent, their lips pressed for better contact, their tongues reached out to meet each other in a fierce dance, to reacquaint themselves with the secrets only they had access to.

Meredith tilted her head back to catch air, her breathing ragged. Her knees were weak and seemingly boneless but thankfully she was not on her feet, they would have given up a long time ago. Blissfully, she was sitting on Derek, on his lap, safely…

Her respiration never seemed so difficult, irregular, her mind, never so fuzzy. Her body was never that affected by an external factor, no drug, no liquor. Only Derek, Derek… His name slid of her lips in a reverent moan and while she became wantonly inert in his arms, he didn't pause his ardent assault.

Her lids cracked up a little, but everything was dizzy. She looked somewhere in space, Derek's hair dancing slightly in her field of vision, his head never in one place for long as he feasted on her. She wanted to scream, moan, groan, but her body couldn't decide; it was sensory overload to be enveloped in his greedy embrace, to have his hands, fingers, lips on her. His scent was intoxicating her even further. Her lonely core throbbed demandingly for its mate.

Derek's mind was clouded in the state of equal inebriation. Only his golden rule of "no surrender" was still in place. He craved to give everything to her, to imprint himself on her body, mind and soul so vividly she wouldn't ever dare to abandon him in the dark again. And he desired her beyond all reason. Never in his life had he been as aroused as in this moment after the unbearable period of forced separation. His body was painfully aware of it too, as his length was rock hard seconds into their tryst. He was a starved man, only she could relieve his hunger. He was reaching out for heaven.

She was reaching out for heaven. She was coming back to her heaven… She pressed herself closer to him; she needed to touch and feel more of him or she would die. Her brain reactivated driven by that sole purpose. Her fingers involuntarily tugged at the hem of his scrubs, eager to caress more skin… Only then did she take notice of something hard trapped between them, something she wanted very… hard. Her hips rolled over that pleasant hardness out of their own volition. Yes, she was going to heaven.

Heaven… Her eyes opened wide suddenly. Did she deserve that? Was she repentant, excused, forgiven? Her heart sank as she realized she wasn't. She sprung out of his unsuspecting arms without a warning, stumbling on her weakened legs and almost falling to the floor. She grabbed the bench for support and waited for her pulse to calm down.

"Mer…?" that was all Derek managed to breath out; his eyes, confused and scared, said the rest.

"Slow," she managed to utter, desperate to calm him down. She wasn't running any longer. She wasn't running away, but she couldn't rush forward either. She plopped back down on the bench and took his hand soothingly, just like before. "I'm not going away, Der," she assured him. "No more running. But we agreed to go slow. It's precisely for that reason."

He nodded pensively and asked, "So… the slow part doesn't include you throwing me out of your house or ignoring me in elevators?"

She knew he meant it as a joke, but her heart panged torturously. She brought his hand to black unruly locks on his temple.

"I love you, Derek," she smiled shyly. "We're starting fresh, and I believe we can be happy. But I think we need time to make it happen."

He breathed in relief and locked his hands with hers. "I missed you," he whispered and claimed her back into his arms, this time more peaceful and relaxed. She passed her hands lazily over his back, feeling warm and safe… until she stiffened, her eyes drilling suspiciously through the door that separated them from the rest of the door. Whenever she glanced at it before, she would catch the sight of one of the ICD workers.

"What happened to the ICD guys?" she asked suddenly.

"What?" muttered Derek, completely unconcerned with anything that didn't involve him and Meredith.

"The ICD workers that were standing behind this door!" she repeated and stood up sliding away from him.

"Did they disappear?" he sighed. He didn't want to let go of her just yet. Meredith was already at the door though and she let out a yelp.

"What's wrong?" asked Derek, turning his head towards her. He didn't follow, walking with a raging hard-on wasn't exactly comfortable.

"Right now, nothing," she hissed opening the door and ripping off a black and yellow tape. "But there will be soon blood on my hands!" She shot out of the room while he lied back on the bench willing his loins to calm the hell down. No need to be frustrated, he reasoned with himself, he would get sex eventually. He'd prefer it to happen sooner rather than later, but Meredith gave their relationship another chance and that meant everything, his heart pounded ecstatically. He felt his penis getting flaccid and pushed himself into a sitting position. He needed to go after his spitfire because apparently, there was slaughter on her mind.