Chapter 26: Shoot for the Moon

"Pretty cozy, they look," said an eager voice of a woman running a stall with UFO merchandise, her eyes following a couple that just walked out of the grocery store.

"It didn't take them long, did it?" replied the lady's friend who stopped over for a quick chat in between her morning errands.

"They're quite a match, alright…"

"I see what you mean, Pat," nodded the UFO lady, Violet, who was sporting a pair of silver antenna herself. "It's just such a pity… you know, Avery's boy," she lowered her voice conspiratorially. "He was quite smitten."

"He'll get over it," said Pat dismissively. "And the doc gets along so much better with… well, the new doc."

"Definitely! They'll have cute kids, just look at them," Violet smiled appreciatively.

"Oh, for sure! They'll have his hair, no doubt. All Shepherds had good hair."

"But the nose…" Violet sighed dramatically. "Not so fortunate…"

"It runs in the family as well, from what I can remember. But it's not exactly bad looking on them is it?" she bit her lip.

"Oh, you're so right!" Violet giggled madly. "It gives him… such a rugged devil-may-care look," she sighed dreamily quoting a passage from her favorite bodice ripper she knew by heart.

Pat soon joined her amusement. She smiled slyly, her cheeks going furiously red. "Dr. Grey looks satisfied. I wonder… I wonder…"

"If he's packing?" Violet finished bluntly without a shade of embarrassment about her. "I bet, just look at him. It's bulging even now…|

"Oh…" ladies let out a collective sigh cocking their heads.

"Besides," Violet went on excitedly.

"What? What do you know?" Pat immediately snowed her in with questions.

"Apparently, he's a stallion in the bedchamber…"

"What?" Pat frowned, not catching another historical romance reference.

"Girl, you should read more!" Violet rolled her eyes, stung. "Anyway, I heard it from Mrs. Marsh herself. She was curious so she went to the practice, told the doc she had a splinter in her finger and she heard it all!"

"What? What did she hear?" Pat could barely contain her curiosity by now.

"Loud banging…" whispered Violet. "I mean. From the bed. Mrs. Marsh told me she thought he was trying to do her in, it banged so fast and hard…"

"So fast and hard…" Pat tried to fan herself with her hand.

"And…"

"And?"

"They were screaming g like there was no tomorrow!"

"Oh, he must be good then…" The ladies were taken by another fit of laughter.

"And…"

"There's more?"

"When Doc Grey finally came down she could barely walk, she didn't even sit when she was taking out that splinter from Mrs. Marsh's finger…"

"Oooh! I wouldn't mind a bit of pain in there if it was his fault," Pat snickered.

"Such a man as him… has needs," sighed Violet. "He's oozing virility."

"Doing what?"

"You're such an ignorant, Pat! What have you done with that book I gave you, 'Sinful desires"? It might give you some tips for your old man."

"I'd do with some tips," she grumbled at the mention of her husband, her eyes still on Derek Shepherd. "And he wonders why I don't have energy for anything when I spend my days cleaning his clothes, he's constantly dribbling food over his front!"

"I bet he cleans his clothes himself," remarked Violet pointing at Derek. "I mean, Doc Grey barely keeps up with her own laundry."

"Oh!" Pat exclaimed suddenly. "He doesn't look so happy anymore, does he?"

"Trouble in paradise, eh?"

"I take pasta, you take sauce," said Meredith throwing the products into separate baskets. Meredith was still avoiding Cristina like the plague. It was weird and certainly gave food for thought for Derek. Since that talk in the barn last week things pretty much returned to normal between them. She didn't avid him any longer, she didn't run. And she even stopped flinching every time he said he loved her.

Because Derek didn't give up on saying those three words to her, every day. She wasn't fretful and inarticulate hearing him say them. There was no longer a pregnant silence following his confession, to be honest, there was no reaction whatsoever on her part. It was like she went momentarily deaf.

He knew he had agreed on her terms. She told him loud and clear what her position was and that it was not going to change. He knew and accepted that. And yet, deep down, it irked him that she chose to pretend not to hear something so important to him, something no woman had heard from him before.

And why was she still avoiding Cristina? They hadn't been at the inn for ages. Which also meant that he had to become a cook or Meredith would starve.

"I'll do my own sauce," Derek replied putting the glass pot back onto the shelf. "Without preservatives."

"God, I just love your feminine upbringing!" she sighed happily and moved on, completely unaware that she had lit and subsequently blown out a flicker of hope in Derek's heart. "So you pay for the pasta and I'll take… carrot cake."

Derek scrunched his face at the white and brown lump. "That's sweeter than the whole contents of a sugar bowl."

"That's why it's so good," she quipped. "I know you won't be eating that. That's why you're paying for the pasta."

"Right," he gave her a crooked smile. "And that's called fair share?" Meredith always insisted on splitting the costs of their shopping, he knew it was another way of keeping her independence. "I won't conjure the sauce with a magical wand. I need tomatoes, onions-"

"Your magical wand is just fine, I'd say," she snickered.

He couldn't help chuckling at the innuendo. "I don't think it has ever been exploited so much as now."

"Really?" she said quickly, too quickly, her voice inexpressively conversational.

He sighed. If only he could stop caring, stop getting angry and feeling helpless at her indifference. Soon he might lose even what she was giving him at the moment. He needed to accept that, as she had proclaimed herself, she was emotionally unavailable. Anger rippled in his chest at the faceless image of Mitch he had in his mind. What did he do to Meredith that broke her to the point that she was unable to fall in love?

But then again, if she hadn't escaped to Rachel, he wouldn't have met her, fallen in love with her… wouldn't have had to suffer too. Damn, his thoughts were so confused.

They paid for their shopping and started to the practice, passing by some stalls with souvenirs for tourists. They didn't get far when a rancher Derek thought he had met on the fair caught up with them. It turned out one of his horses had hurt his leg and wanted to have it looked at.

"I'll go," Meredith offered and passed Derek the grocery bag she was carrying. "You'll be fine with that?"

"Yeah," he said and leaned to press a small kiss to her lips. "I love you."

"Okay," she nodded and whirled on her heel to where the rancher was waiting for her in his car.

Okay? He loved her and all she had to say was okay?

Yes, it had to be okay. His stupid brain had to finally embrace it.

During the day, they barely had time for each other. The horse's injury appeared to be more serious than anticipated and it wasn't until well into the afternoon that Meredith was back from the ranch, tired sweaty and her back aching.

Whereas, Derek had the entire practice on his hands for the whole day and just when he was supposed to finish and join Meredith at his place, and elderly man showed up, practically begging for Derek's and only Derek's medical advice.

When Derek joined his patient in his office, he was shocked by the sight of him standing there with his pants and underwear at his ankles.

"Sir?" he cleared his throat disconcertedly.

"I… I know this exam is necessary," the man stammered embarrassedly, "for the pills."

"The pills?" Derek moved to his desk, unable to meet his eyes.

"For this, I mean," he pointed at his crotch. "I have my years, son. When you're my age, you'll see that not everything still works as it should."

"Right," Derek muttered, cringing inwardly. Just what he needed to end this day, an erectile dysfunction. The future didn't look too bright even without the prospect of becoming permanently flaccid.

"I must say I am happy to see a man here again, at the practice," the patient, called Mr. Livingston, went on. "I know Dr. Grey is a wonderful person, such a caring doctor. I've come to her a few times myself for cold and stuff. But she's, well… a woman," he whispered dramatically. "It would be too… awkward…"

Derek willed his eyebrow not to arch up. Like a guy groping your family jewels wasn't awkward… He shook himself off. He definitely ought not to pour his frustrations on patients. The man just came for his help.

"So, what seems to the the problem…" Derek started and immediately coughed to cover his awkwardness. He didn't have much experience in this area, literally. "I mean… I take it that you came here for a Viagra prescription?"

"Yes, the blue pulls, doc," Mr. Livingston nodded eagerly. "Your uncle, may he rest in peace, used to give them to me. And then well… I didn't dare go to Dr. Grey with this and… and I haven't had any for months now. And it's like ages to me, I'm seventy-one, son."

"Oh…"

"I don't have any heart problems or anything. My wife tells me not to worry and that she loves me anyway even if I can't get it up."

"Right…"

"But you know how it is. The woman's the love of my life. I want to give the best for her and well, I just want to make love to my wife."

An hour later Derek left the practice feeling more depressed than ever. Mr. Livingston's wife loved him even if they couldn't have sex. Whereas, he was giving Meredith all the sex she wanted and then some and she still wouldn't love him.

The flashy green alien above the door to Cristina's inn caught his eye and he felt like having a strong drink. Just before he went in, however, he remembered about Meredith and that she had put her relationship with Cristina on sort of a hold. He didn't want to be subjected to any questioning about what he and Meredith did or didn't do.

He so needed a drink though, he needed something to numb the dull ache that was spreading through him, every day invading another part of his body. Who would have thought he'd ever feel like this. Unrequited love hurt like a bitch.

A walk in the soft evening air, that took much more time than on average, didn't bring him any relief, any solace though the night was so beautiful, the stars unusually bright. The house was dark when he arrived, only a subdued light on the porch illuminated the path leading in. He noiselessly slipped inside, left his briefcase somewhere in the hall. He didn't even turn the lamps on but he didn't trip as he walked upstairs. He was like a man possessed. Completely and utterly possessed by that woman.

He stepped into the bedroom. It was bathed in moonlight for a change. The ghostly beams uncovered all the secrets of the room and left the solitary sleeper, Meredith, in the spotlight. She must have been exhausted to go to bed this early. She didn't even put her hair in a braid, she just tied it at the level of her neck so it didn't poke her in the night.

Derek could clearly see she was bare under the thin cover, just as they usually slept. Sometime in her sleep she probably rolled over from her side to her back, the blanket twisting around her waist leaving her ripe breasts shamelessly naked for the moon to peek on. One of her arms was thrown casually above her head making her pose appear even more wantonly alluring.

It didn't take long for his manhood to react to the scene before his eyes. His penis was straining inside his pants painfully. His body was suddenly pierced with the most violent desire he had ever known. Yet he stood listlessly, having just crossed the threshold. He didn't want to wake her for… sex. Because that was what they were doing, having sex, having sexual intercourse, day in day out. They weren't making love…

Meredith shifted in her sleep once again, turning back to her left side and facing away from him, hitching a side of the blanket. She accidentally uncovered all her back to him and an enticing fragment of her ass. Something snapped in him. If it was just sex they were having, it was as good moment as any. He started to tear his clothes off at top speed, his eyes unchangeably on Meredith, as though she was offered for his taking. Once stark naked he pumped his length a couple of times and lay down behind her, under the partially kicked off blanket.

His wide outstretched palm landed on the bewitching valley of her waist and glided up and down on her skin, adding just a bit of pressure. His hand avidly stroked her middle, her easily detectable ribs, her shoulder and arm. As he loomed even closer on her, his face nuzzled the back of her head. Her hair was still slightly damp from the shower, the lavender scent of her freshly applied conditioner was going to his head. One of his legs nudged hers apart while his hand now slid to her front, impatiently flexing over her breasts.

His heart was pounding, his chest tightening and expanding against her back, but she continued to sleep on undisturbed. Even if he felt a bit like a pervert feeling her up when she was unconscious, he presently didn't have a care in the world. The reckless streak of his won him over. If not any other way, he'd have her physically. She would be his for this short period of time, only his.

However, she was not that unconscious any longer. Due to his rough ministrations, her nipples were tout and she was writhing a bit against him, the breaths she drew quickened. His fingers temporarily abandoned her sensitive globes and grazed down her flat abdomen to disappear between her legs. Her core was already hot as his fingers caressed her folds with growing intensity to make her ready for him. He brushed her plump clit and sank his forefinger into her sweet opening eliciting a soft gasp from her.

"Mer…" he murmured biting on her neck. "Mer, wake up."

But even if her body reacted to the foreplay he was imposing on it, she was still deep in slumber, her eyes as closed as ever, her breathing and movements of her pelvis instinctual, as her skin covered in perspiration.

"Mer… I need sex…" he whispered hotly into her ear. "If I can't have anything else… I want sex…"

She didn't answer, only hummed softly. He had to, he needed to take it as a yes. He had to have her. Take her. Fill her. Possess her. He wanted her to be his, damn, it!

He withdrew his finger from her sweet channel, she was wet enough for him. Instead, he lifted her leg a bit more over his and thrust into her with one swift move that provoked another mindless gasp out of her. His eyes rolled back in his skull at the tight fill of her. She enveloped him so well, like she was born to make him feel like this. He felt as if he was made to complete her. Gripping her hips in place, he pushed back into her. Keeping pushing back inside her, that was the only thing he wanted to be doing, the only thing on his mind. He willed himself not to think about anything but that. At some point, his thought processes became increasingly uncomplicated. He was driven by the sheer animalistic need to take her body, to imprint himself on her, make her remember what he was able to do to her body. He craved to feel that he had her.

As he speared her over and over again, he was utterly caught up with his lust which was making his brain lose in the power struggle with the other head. Just a few thrusts into her wet channel were enough to make him come hard, spraying her walls with his seed.

The post-orgasmic fog clouding his brain lifted surprisingly quickly. His release brought only a short-lived relief. It didn't satisfy his hunger for her, he didn't drink his fill. He also realized she wasn't pushed over the edge with him. She was moaning and writhing on the soft bedding instinctually buckling against his now flaccid length. She seemed to be still asleep, or rather overcome by some sort of dream fantasy. He didn't even feel bad about it, he was too confused, too engrossed in sex.

But this time a new thought took over his mind, he had to make her come and by that quench his own raging desires. He flipped her to her stomach and hovered over her. It gave him an odd sense of power to have her like this, under him, at his mercy. His hands once again fondled her sides, massaged her bottom. He rested his weight partially against her nuzzling his manhood against her ass until it grew hard once again. The speed of his recovery didn't surprise him. She was his drug, he was pretty sure he was on the best way to develop a sex addiction with her. What was he going to do when his time in Rachel was up? He shuddered suddenly, the need for her taking a painful dimension, both physically and psychically.

He lifted her up by her hip and plunged back into her, making her body tense and arch against his chest.

"Meredith…" he panted into the side of her face desperately. Her breathing was labored, her eyelids fluttering but still shut.

He wanted her to come so much this time, he wanted to feel her walls collapse around his penis as if teasing him into following her into orgasmic bliss. He managed to maintain a steady regular pace while his fingers found her little nub to nudge her into pleasure.

Her uncontrollable moans filled the moonlit bedroom as he urged his hips to work faster and harder, so harder, as his balls slapped against her. Her hands balled into fists clawing the sheets as her entire body tensed to its limits and finally, at long last, blossomed in her orgasm with a tremendous, and slightly surprised, outcry. As soon as he felt her collapse all around him, he gave in to his second release. And he still felt he was not quite done with her.

"Wha… huh…" he heard her mumbled into the pillow as they lay in a snug fit, sweaty and trembling.

He gathered up his strengths and turned her onto her back to face him. Her eyelids were inching up as he insinuated himself between her limp legs.

"Did… I…" she stammered breathlessly. "Org… orgs'm…" she was having trouble formulating her thoughts. "Don't… r'member… you…"

He offered her no answer other than his lips falling on hers, kissing the living daylights out of her. He was pushy, insistent, hard… Yes, he was hard… Her toes curled up at the feel of his member stiffening against her hip. Damn that was fast, he had just come and come hard given the fact that she was practically gushing with their mixed juices.

Just when a thought fleeted through her brain that she was going to die of oxygen deprivation (she'd rather die than stop the drugging kiss) he backed his head and looked at her hotly from under his drooping eyelids. Her lips stretched in a silly smile as it randomly occurred to her that he had really good eyelashes, too good for a man. But well, he had great hair, wherever it was located it was great.

"I want you…" he whispered grinding his pelvis against her. He couldn't stop it. God, what was it today that all he wanted to do was thrust into her, cum into her… "I want you, Mer… so damn much…"

She nodded, trying not to forget how to breathe, as she hooked her shaky legs around him.

"I want you… tell me you want me too," he pleaded locking her green orbs with his like a hypnotizer. "God, tell me you want me!" his strangled voice raised desperately.

"I… want you…"she swallowed and nodded at him, "Derek…"

At least he had that… As soon as the words fell from her lips, he rammed back into her, his rigid cock sliding in her with slick ease. Once again his thrusts soon become fast and rough. This was no time for slowly, slowly was for lovemaking and that was not what they were doing here. They were fucking, that was all there was. He needed to get this out of his system, the hurt, the rejection, the unfairness of it all. He wanted it all out of him, he almost hoped it would flow out of his body with his release as he came hard once again, taking Meredith right with him.