Chapter 3

The One where the Plan fell apart

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. They belong to Shonda Rhimes (I hope I'm not mistaken)

Background: Starts from the beginning of season 1 with their first meeting at the bar. AU from there. Derek is looking for a fresh start, one-night stands and mostly- oblivion from his carefully built life back home. Meredith is a virgin but still hotheaded and stubborn to no end. When her one-night-stand attempt ends up her boss, she's mortified. Still, not as mortified as overhearing him talk to another attending asking him is she was frigid and Derek agreeing with him. Now he's determined to forget about her, and she will do anything to prove his words wrong. None of them expected to fall for each other in the process.

Most of the regular characters will be there, though I may give them slightly different stories. Christina is with Owen from the start, I was never much into Burke. Lots of drama because writing is my way to vent.

Note: I briefly stepped away from writing at all, sorry everyone. I will do my best to be more consistent now.

1.

Meredith did her best to tune out the lights and chatter and concentrate on the flashcards in her hand. She read them, turned the card over and moved it from her right to her left pocket as seamlessly as she could without moving her head. There was a hairdresser cutting and coloring her hair and she didn't want to disturb anyone holding scissors that close to her. On the chair next to her, Izzie groaned.

'Mer, studying wasn't part of the deal.'

'Neither was this whole thing taking my only day off.' Mer protested, refusing to admit that the flashcards made her more comfortable then all the fussing and shopping and prepping. When she'd given Izzi a green light to make her 'hotter', she'd imagined a quick hairdo, a new outfit, maybe doing her nails. She hadn't planned on nails, pedicure, waxing, haircut, hair coloring, eyebrows, massages, facial and so much clothes she was worried about her budget. 'Who takes this much time to get ready?'

'Oh, no one, honey.' Izzi giggled at how flabbergasted Meredith looked. 'It's called regular maintenance. Then you only go on occasion, trim here, roots there, bing bang boom, you're ready.'

'I hate you.' Meredith hissed at her under her breath, trying not to disturb the hairstylist. 'I could have been sleeping now.'

'Yes, but alone. We are trying to avoid that.' Izzi nodded at her re-assuringly and giggled, and Meredith couldn't stay mad at her. With everything she had seen in her short life, it was hard not to be cynical. But that's why she had Cristina, to bitch about the darkness and hard things she saw and then get over it. Izzi was that obnoxious bubbly friend that always pushed you to look on the positive side of things. And everyone needed that in their life too.

'Sorry, Meredith.' Izzi got serious, shrugging her shoulders. 'Don't be mad, you just... well, come on. You have like 2 dresses. And like one decent set of underwear. And you know how to get ready, so I don't know why you don't, other than that one night. And your hair...'

'I got it.' hissed Meredith again, cringing internally at where the conversation was going. 'Just get me home soon, will you?'

Izzi squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. 'You'll be beautiful, I promise.'

2.

'Are you sure?' Meredith groaned and took another look in the mirror, while Izzie was fussing around her, making a final check of her masterpiece. It was 5:25 am, and at 5:25 am starting a double shift, it was hard to remember why she had spent her whole day off, doing this. Officially, she was getting back at Derek. No part of her wanted to admit to any other reason. So despite all the pestering and hovering, Izzi hadn't mentioned his name. She looked in the mirror again. Her hair, always in that color between blonde and brunette, was now full of honey-colored warm highlights, as well as some lighter blonder ones, so subtly done, that she couldn't quite tell what part highlighted and which was her own hair. The slight layers that were cut, made her hair naturally wavy, and with 15 min of curling iron magic from Izzy, and a bit of hair foam that smelled of strawberries, her hair looked like a shiny liquid gold waterfall, warm, bright, and curling in natural waves framing her face. Her face was glowing from the facial despite the lack of sleep and being up in that ungodly hour. She wore a powdery blue shirt under her scrubs. A little peach and champagne eyeshadow, mascara, and a hint of blush and she looked like she woke up like that every day. Except that she looked effortlessly beautiful and as if she had slept for a week. Izzy gave her an approving look, and a groan from George, who went to start the car, grumpy at the fact that she was doing this for 'some douchebag attending' by his own words, was enough to confirm that she was on the right path.

She looked at herself again, as if she couldn't believe it was really her.

It had been a while since she had put so much effort in her looks, for anything other than a party, and she was nervous as hell. So nervous that she made mistakes in 3 separate questions during rounds, on things she could tell in her sleep usually. Thankfully, Derek had not been present for either of those. By noon, she was shaking with nerves from the anticipation to see him. She skipped on joining her friends eating on the balcony part of the cafeteria and stayed behind, pacing in the locker room. She'd made some bullshit excuse so they won't worry. Cristina gave her an odd look, but there was a braindead guy that she was waiting to declare dead and participate in donating his organs, so she didn't question her.

What am I doing? The last time I tried to impress a guy so much... well we know, how that turned out. She thought of how things had been 5 years ago. She'd been 18, thinking she was crazy in love and an adult. Thinking she knew everything. That she knew him. It felt like the person that fussed over her looks, over him, was gone. Had to be gone. She had to be who she was and concentrate on traveling and studying and...She shook her head. She wasn't an 18 year old anymore. It wasn't the same. Yet, the nerves gathered in a ball in her stomach begged to differ. She couldn't even think of eating anything, ever since she woke up. Coffee, she thought, still anxious, I need coffee.

She and her best friend in high school had loved making breaks in their all-nighters by going to get hot, foamy, delicious caramel mocha lattes in the middle of the night. That was the best part about dormitories. Someone was always asleep, someone was always awake at any point of the day. So they could always get amazing coffee, at any hour. And for her hot coffee had become the thing that made her feel at home- and by extension, made her instantly calmer, despite the caffeine.

She was fiddling with the buttons of the coffee machine in the hallway, playing with her hair anxiously, deep in her thoughts, and then it happened.

'Dr. Grey.'

She stopped and spun around, her hair spilling in golden waves on her shoulders. 'Dr. Shepard.'

He seemed all formal and polite, but she could swear she could see his lips twitching in an effort not to smile at her. He also kept sliding his eyes up and down her body. That part was harder to hide. Thank you, Izzie. He moved away to look at some charts, and when he returned he brushed lightly against her in passing. Enough to breathe in that intoxicating strawberry smell from her hair. Enough to inconspicuously slide a tiny note in her pocket. She started walking towards the locker room, and Christina passed by her in the hallway, grinning, obviously having seen them. She high-fived her in passing.

'Yes! Details later! Gotta go declare someone dead.'

Meredith cringed.

'Cris! Try not to sound so cheery!'

Christina turned around briefly, giving her thumbs up. She wasn't sure if it was about what she said or about Derek. Probably the latter. Finally, alone, she unfolded the note. 'Meet me in the on-call room of the third floor? 3pm? Please. I want to talk to you! -D.' Just talk? In an on-call room? She somehow doubted that. Her body pulsed, between nerves and desire. Despite all the time that had passed since she'd felt like that, she felt guilty, too. She shook the feeling off. She deserved to enjoy herself, with whomever she pleased. However she pleased. The thought gave her a happy jolt. It was only 1pm, and she wondered how she'd keep it together until 3.

3.

But she was an intern, in a hospital, so distractions didn't take long to follow. Her pager beeped, and she hurried to the E.R. and the usual chaos of it washed over her. People running, yelling, patients wanting updates on loved ones, doctors taking claim over rooms and procedures. It was known, expected chaos and she found it actually soothing, on most days.

'Incoming, incoming! Out of the way!'

'Lost consciousness in a grocery store, hit her head on the tiles, conscious now, confused, aggressive, agitated...'

'What is her name?'

There was a patient being rolled into the E.R. by doctor Bailey, surrounded by the rest of the interns, Izzy looking through the chart and then straight at Mer. The patient, despite the blood trickling from her forehead, was yelling nonsensically. She could recognize that voice anywhere.

'Stevens, what is her name?' yelled Baily.

Izzy swallowed. 'Ellis Grey. Her name is Ellis Gray.'

Meredith stood frozen. Ellis focused on her, recognizing her finally. 'Meredith! Meredith, tell them to leave me alone! I am late for surgery, tell them to leave me alone, you ungrateful little brat!' She was shouting enough that the whole floor heard her. Meredith stood frozen, wishing she'd just wake up and this will be just a bad dream.

Bailey had paged her and she was supposed to join them, but all she could hear was the yelling and she couldn't decide whether to run or pretend to be fine. Bailey left the other 4 interns to set up her mom in a private room and send her to get a head CT- you didn't skip steps when it came to legendary surgeons- and then she approached Meredith.

'I didn't know who she was when I paged. You can skip this one out.'

'I'm fine.'

'You know the rules, Gray. She's family. You're off the case. Do you need the day off?' there was nothing soft or babying in her voice. It was a matter of fact. Family is family. And for her 2cents, Grey was already holding it together better in that situation than expected. So taking a personal day was just what you do.

'I'm fine.'

'Then you're on the pit and doing charts. Pre-ops, post-ops. I want all notes done in a way that I can read them after. All details, no skipping.'

'Fine, dr. Bailey.' muttered Meredith begrudgingly. She'd give anything to be in surgery at that moment. There was something magical about operating rooms. Stakes were so high, literally life and death, that once she scrubbed in, she put all her attention on the surgery. Every moment, every move, every sound, every tool. Everything mattered. And she forgot about anything else. She needed that now, more than ever.

'Don't give me that tone. I will send you home in a heartbeat if you're giving me a tone.'

'Yes, dr. Bailey.'

She walked away. Straight through that hallway, and then elevator, few floors, and she'd spend... Her day doing charts while her mom was shouting on another floor? Meeting a sexy attending in an on-call room, while her roommates took care of her yelling mother? Suddenly she couldn't breathe. She pressed one hand to her chest and tried to breathe deeply, but she could only take small breaths, her pulse quickening. She panicked and walked forward, not really seeing where she was. Her chest kept rising and falling quicker and quicker and she reached the door of the supply room, just as Derek reached her.

'Dr. Grey.' Her heart skipped a beat and she refused to look at him. She fiddled with the handle and finally pushed the door. She got in the supply closet and closed the door straight in his face. She paced back and forth, while he quietly opened the door, got in, and closed it again. He stopped her from pacing, putting his hands firmly on her shoulders.

'Meredith?'

'What? W-w-what?' She was heaving in his arms, unable to focus her eyes on him. He'd meant to calm her down by stopping her, but she only looked more agitated, struggling to get out of his grip, shaking. Tears were sliding down her cheeks in black streaks from the mascara, but she couldn't get enough air in her lungs to realize anything else.

'Breathe, Meredith. I think you're having a panic attack.'