Meredith closed her eyes and breathed in a sigh of relief as she settled herself down into the hospital lobby chair that suddenly seemed much more comfortable than usual. Apart from the whole fourteen hour shift, keeping track of four other people, avoiding Dr. Riley, saving lives, and trying to convince thing one through three, and George, that she wasn't crazy was exhausting. The irrational smiling had diminished to an almost completely controllable consequence of extreme happiness through the early hours of the afternoon, but after her brief encounter with Derek during her late lunch, Meredith had been feeling the edge of her lips twitching habitually once again. And having George ask her if she was high at every chance was ruining her attempts to hide it. She was sure her interns thought she was crazy, but she shrugged it off. They were probably right.
She lifted her wrist and peeked one eye open just long enough to focus on the digits displayed by her watch. It was a little after seven. Derek had left a message on her phone telling her he was running late. He'd missed his ferry and had been forced to wait for the next one. He'd be as quick as he could.
Shifting her body to find a more comfortable position, Meredith actually debated lying down across a row of seats, but she quickly dismissed the idea. People in this hospital didn't need another reason to think she was crazy. So she'd settle for snoozing in an upright position. If her internship had taught her anything, it was how to sleep anywhere and anyhow. But she wasn't actually going to sleep. She just wanted to rest her eyes. Just wanted to let her tired body drift a bit as she recuperated from her day. She wasn't going to sleep.
At the feeling of a hand on her shoulder, Meredith jolted upright, her wide eyes immediately locking with familiar blue ones. "Derek," she breathed, her heart settling back into its rightful place in her chest.
He surveyed her with playful eyes. "So, maybe you aren't up to the whole dress-down thing tonight," he joked.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes, but held her tongue. Whatever she said he would be able to twist. If she agreed, he would be right and he would win; if she argued, she'd find herself proving him wrong and he'd still win. Of course she'd be winning too, but she still wasn't going to vocalize anything.
"I wasn't sleeping," she told him as she took his offered hand to pull her up off the chair.
"Of course not," he responded, both his voice and expression betraying his words.
"I wasn't. I was just resting my eyes. I just sat down. I must not have seen you..." She trailed off as she looked down at her watch. It was seven-thirty. Damn. She'd definitely been sleeping.
He was smirking at her when she finally looked back up at him.
"Fine, I was sleeping." She admitted unhappily. "And don't look at me like that, mister my-shift-started-after-yours-and-ended-before-yours-and-now-I'm-making-fun-of-you-for-being-tired."
"When did I make fun of you?" He asked, one eyebrow raised, a smile still playing on his lips.
"Shut up," she muttered, allowing him to rest a hand on the small of her back and lead her out towards the car.
"Are you up to going out tonight?" He questioned as they approached the parking lot, his tone genuine, not sarcastic and joking as it had been before.
She sighed and leaned closer to him as they walked along, causing his hand to hook around her side. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it." The cool outside air was waking her up.
"You sure?" They were approaching his car and he was shuffling with his other hand to pull out his keys.
"Mmm-hmm," she nodded as she reluctantly pulled away from his warmth to walk around to the passenger seat. "I'll be fine, just need to wake up again. I really didn't mean to fall asleep." The car beeped once as Derek finally managed to extract his keys and hit the unlock button. Meredith pulled open her door, but her eyes caught something through the tinted windows of the back seat of his car. She collapsed into the seat and craned her head around to examine his rear seats. Then she started laughing as he settled himself in beside her.
"How much mail to you get?" She asked him, motioning her head towards the mound of envelopes strewn across the fabric of the seats.
Derek laughed. "Apparently I haven't been out there in longer than I thought." He shrugged and started the car.
Meredith shook her head as she turned her body back around to face the road. They fell into a comfortable silence as Derek navigated the parking lot and hospital roads back out onto the highway. Once most obstacles were successfully manoeuvred around, he silently reached out and grasped Meredith's hand. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand in response, her thoughts filtering back to the pile of unopened mail resting ominously behind her. She knew he hadn't done it on purpose, but maybe some subconscious thing? Or maybe nothing at all. He had probably settled the letters on the passenger seat to rip open at red lights during his drive back, only to toss them unceremoniously into the backseat upon arriving at the hospital. No hidden meaning whatsoever.
She sighed quietly to herself as she gave up debating the possible hidden meanings intrinsic in the mail on the seat behind her, choosing to focus on the sudden issue she had most likely created for herself from scratch. She risked a glance at her handsome driver. He looked content and confident, his blue eyes focussed on the road, save for the occasional glances in his rear and side view mirrors. He really was a careful driver. He definitely didn't look distracted. Definitely didn't look like he was waiting to get a reaction out of her. Okay. So. She breathed. Derek most definitely had no idea what she was thinking right now. He was simply driving along, oblivious to the three ring circus act performing in her mind.
At least it gave her time to think.
But all she could think about was the ominous pile of letters littering the seats behind her.
One part of her was screaming 'there's nothing to think about, just ask!'
But the other part, the part that usually screamed at her to run the other way as fast as she could, the part that was almost always the one that screamed the loudest, that part of her was telling her to slow down. Telling her, not screaming. It said to slow down, to think. So she tried to think. She really tried.
There's nothing to think about! There was the first voice again.
Meredith let out an exasperated sigh.
"You okay over there?" Derek questioned, glancing quickly at her.
Meredith rolled her eyes at herself. She didn't need Derek thinking she was crazy on top of everyone else. "Fine, sorry, just thinking."
"About what?" His question was so light, so innocent, so unknowing. And it would be sweet that he was being dreamy and caring and all he wanted was to know what was going on in her life. It would be sweet if it wasn't the last thing she wanted him to be in on right now.
"Uh, nothing important," she muttered, trying to be inconspicuous.
"Mer..."
She scrunched up her face. Barely thirty-six hours and she was already withholding. Wonderful. One more thing to add to the checklist. Manic. Check! Crazy. Check! Sleeping in the lobby. Check! Withholding from Derek. Check!
"Don't Mer me, Derek. I'm not trying to keep anything from you, I promise. I just... can't even make out what I'm thinking right now enough to tell you. It just hit me, suddenly, out of nowhere, with no warning... which is a stupid thing to say, because seriously, all of those things mean the same thing. And if Dr. Riley was here, he would give me shit for wasting our time by being repetitive. Because man, does that man have a stick up his ass about something. But anyway, I'm getting off topic. I'm thinking. And I will let you in on what I am thinking about when I can properly wrap my head around what I am thinking about."
They had stopped at a red light. Cars on the cross street were ambling by them on their green. Derek was staring at her, an amused expression across his features. He stared at her for several seconds before the corners of his mouth twitched. "When George told me you were high today, I though he was kidding."
Meredith's bottom jaw dropped. "George did what?" Plan to kill favourite intern the following day. Check!
Derek just laughed, turning his attention back to the road as the cross street traffic stopped and the light before them turned green.
"I was so not acting high," she muttered. "Just because a person is happy and wants to smile every once in a while, the person is labelled as high? Seriously?"
Derek chortled and shook his head as he guided the car into the parking lot of their favourite little Italian restaurant. He found a parking spot near the door and pulled in, putting the car in gear and turning of the ignition.
Meredith sighed, squeezing his hand, and smiled when he turned to face her. "Seriously, Derek, I promise it's nothing bad. And I promise I'll tell you when I'm ready."
He smiled warmly at her, leaning across the center console and pressing his lips briefly against hers. When he pulled away, he only pulled back a few inches, keeping his eyes in line with hers. "Mer, if you had just told me you needed time to think the first time, you could have saved a lot of thinking time you wasted rambling. Not that I don't love the rambling. More rambling I say." He smirked.
Meredith huffed at him, playfully pushing him away with her palm against his chest. He laughed as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door. Meredith did the same, stepping out and walking around to meet him on the walkway in front of the car.
He smiled, tilting his body as he held his arm out. She laughed at his exaggerated invitation and hooked her wrist through his elbow, leaning close to him as he led them both inside. Derek had called ahead, so the maitre d' was just checking to see what table they were assigned to. It was only a short delay, no more than a minute. But in that minute, Meredith made her decision. She was telling the second voice to shove it, and she was going with the first voice.
Standing in the foyer of the restaurant, her arms still tucked carefully around his elbow, her side brushing up against his, she made her decision. The first voice was right. There was nothing to think about. She knew what she wanted. He was warm and handsome and dreamy, and amazing and thoughtful and caring. And she loved him. And he loved her. And that was all she needed to know.
And the happy, manic smile was back in all its glory, plastered across her face. Derek gave her an odd look, but chose not to say anything. It wasn't until they were being led to their table, Derek releasing his arm and placing a hand on her back to guide her in front of him as they navigated the tables that it hit her. She knew what she wanted, but how should she go about getting it? And how would it work? Because neither of the two possibilities staring her in the face seemed suitable suddenly.
What did one do at this point in the relationship? Meredith had certainly never been there. She had no idea. And she wasn't supposed to wait for Derek to initiate every step, right? Because that was hardly balanced. Derek could definitely initiate the next one. It was bigger. And she wasn't ready for it yet, but this step she was ready for. Just had to figure out how to bring it up. And it's not like she could ask him, cause that would ruin the moment if she asked him for advice on how to bring the topic up, not to mention ruining the surprise. Was it supposed to be a surprise? Or should it be pretty obvious by now? She would wait for the right opportunity and casually slip it into the conversation. Then it could go either way.
She had a plan.
The arrived at their table and Derek pulled back her chair, ever the gentleman. She smiled and thanked him as she took her seat and he sat across from her. They had been seated at a small table along the edge of the room, near a window that would be giving them an excellent view of Seattle downtown if it wasn't getting dark.
Meredith smiled as the waiter approached their table; she ordered a glass of wine and happily took her menu. Other than the odd comment about the menu and possible food choices, they remained happily quiet as they skimmed through their choices. Their drinks arrived and they made their orders.
"Well," Derek said, smiling at her as he raised his glass. She mirrored his efforts. "Cheers," he said, clinking his glass against hers.
"Cheers," Meredith said with a smile, only faltering for a short moment. Was now a good time to bring it up? It wasn't very discreet, but it was opportune. It would give them something to cheers to. But it was also very upfront, not casual like she had planned, and then she would already be going against her plan. She should wait. Or should she just say it. She could break a plan she had made on a whim only a few minutes ago. Or... By the time she came close to making a decision, the moment had passed, leaving her inwardly cursing at herself for not being prepared. She quickly brought the glass to her lips.
They chatted about the first few days of her residency, but Meredith didn't think bringing up her question to be very opportune while ranting about Dr. Riley.
Then they talked about the surgeries he had lined up for the next week. Still no good.
She almost thought she was getting close when he touched on Izzy and her incessant baking the week before, but the conversation went towards junk food stuff instead of home stuff. Derek told her of his plan to avoid all baked goods until his stomach stopped rejecting the notion. He had suffered a long occupation by the muffin-nazi while she had been gone.
Their meals arrived.
They talked about George and how he was coping with repeating his year.
They talked about Callie being picked as chief resident.
They talked about the weather. It had been uncharacteristically sunny for the past few days. Maybe Meredith and Cristina had brought the warm weather back with them from Hawaii.
It was getting late. Their plates were almost clear. Meredith was stuffed, and knew she couldn't even pretend to order dessert to prolong the conversation. If she was going to make her move, it had to be soon.
Derek was talking about a new technique he had read about in a journal. She had no idea how to fit in to that topic. Hmmm. Journal article. Mail. Neurosurgery. Mailing address. 3D imaging. New keys. They just didn't add up.
Their plates were cleared and Derek slipped the waiter his credit card. Meredith had to hurry. It was now or never. She needed an intro topic. She needed...
"Meredith, are you okay?" Derek questioned her. She glanced up at him. He was staring at her, concern lining his beautiful blue eyes. She swallowed, her mind racing to come up with something suave.
"Mail!" She spat out, immediately chastising herself. Couldn't she, for once in her life, do something calmly? She collapsed her face into her hands, shaking her head as she groaned.
Derek narrowed his eyes, obviously searching his mind for any indication as to what she was thinking. "I'm sorry, what?"
Meredith sighed. She lifted her head, her shoulders slugging forward in defeat. She had waited all dinner for the perfect opportunity and now here she was, coming out of right field, already putting Derek on edge. "I was thinking about your mail, in the back of your car."
Derek almost laughed. She could tell by the way his expression tightened, like he was trying to prevent it from morphing into something inappropriate. His mouth twitched, but he remained relatively straight faced. A stranger may not be able to tell the difference. "So, you've been spacey all evening because you're thinking about the mail in the back seat of my car?" His eyes twinkled. "Unless, of course, you were worried because you had planned to make use of the backseat and the letters were in the way, because that's not a problem. I can remove them quite easily."
Meredith glared at him. "You won't be getting any in any seat of your car ever again, mister," she told him. "We've already been caught once. And it's not going to happen again."
Derek smirked. "I love it when you're bossy."
Meredith could barely hold back her smile as she continued to glare at his smirking face. "Shut up, Derek."
He rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Anyway, Mer, what's on your mind?" He asked. "We never got past the mail on my backseat."
"No, you never got past the mail on your backseat. You made it dirty."
"Technicality," he told her, waving his hand.
It was her turn to roll her eyes.
"So," he prompted.
She sighed. "I don't want you to go get your mail anymore."
He tilted his head. "You don't want me to get my mail? I don't understand..."
"I mean, I don't want you to have to go get it; it should come to you, where you're living."
Derek sucked in a breath, suddenly foreseeing where she was going.
"Your mail should go to where you're living," Meredith repeated. "And you're obviously not living at the trailer. So..." She trailed off. "I'm sorry; I'm not good at this. I don't know what I'm supposed to say here..."
Derek smiled warmly at her. "Meredith, are you asking me to move in with you?"
She quickly shook her head. "No."
"No," he repeated, his demeanour half-deflating. He looked confused and a little insecure.
"I mean, not no, but not yes. At first I was thinking yes, because you basically live with me anyway. Even Izzy and Alex call you their roommate, but..."
"Here you go, Sir. I hope you enjoyed your meal." The waiter said, placing the receipt on the table with Derek's credit card, completely oblivious to the fact that he had interrupted Meredith's first potential speech at adequately expressing herself while remaining coherent to the world outside of her head.
Derek thanked the waiter and turned his attention back to Meredith, momentarily ignoring the receipt. "But," he prompted.
Meredith took a breath, trying to calm her shaky nerves. She shouldn't be nervous. "Derek, I have a beautiful house. And it's been great living there for the year with Izzy and George and Alex, but that house will always be my mother's house. And as many good memories as I have now, I have horrible memories from that house that will never go away. So, if we're going to do this," she said, motioning between the two of them. "If we're really going to do this, the whole long haul thing, then I need for us not to do it in my mother's house. And I really want to do it. And I want to live with you. Just you. Officially."
Derek blinked at her. Once. Twice. Then he was smiling. The corners of his lips turned upwards, reaching towards his eyes, which were bright and sparkly like she'd never seen them. "Really?" He asked, reaching across the table for her hand.
She smiled back at him, her nerves dissipating as she reached her hand up and placed it with his on the table. "Really." She squeezed his hand.
"I love you, Meredith," he told her, still smiling happily at her. She'd never get tired of that dazzling expression focussed so intently on her.
"I love you, too." She responded. "So?"
His eyes narrowed as he considered her question. "So?" he repeated, obviously unable to decipher its meaning.
She huffed and pulled her hand out of his. "So?" She repeated again. "So, do I get an answer? Kind of out on a limb here..." she trailed off.
He rolled his eyes good naturedly at her tone, and he was up and out of his seat in a flash, pulling her to her feet and into a tight embrace. "I'd love to live with you, Meredith. More than anything."
AN: So, I went somewhere new for me, tried to follow what I perceive to be Meredith's inner rambler at work... a lot like my own thought process at times. Lol. Hope it was a happy chappie. (wow, sorry, lacking a little in the sleep department..). Anyway, I felt it was important that Meredith initiate a step and have it go well for her. And the use of the mail was triggered from last chapter. Seriously, I had no preconceived notions of this chapter at the time, just wrote Derek going to get his mail and triggered the idea. Lol. I love it when things work out like that.