They stopped at the liquor store on the way to Meredith's house to buy a bottle of scotch and a bottle of tequila. Meredith still hadn't figured out what the hell she had been thinking when she invited him back to her place. Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely true. She'd been thinking about mind-blowing sex again. It seemed like the perfect cure to their problems. Well, to hers at least. She was willing to admit, sometimes she was a selfish woman.
Her companion was silent for the most part and Meredith liked that. It was kind of like an unspoken agreement between them not to ask personal questions. Such as what their names were. She didn't know his name and that made him that much more intriguing. He had that far away look in his eyes, like he was constantly off somewhere thinking. McDreamy. That's what she would call him.
When they arrived, they didn't go inside right away. Instead, she took him around to the back yard and they sat on the porch swing that had been there for years. She drank her tequila and he drank his scotch. Occasionally, they would trade off. He didn't ask what was wrong with her and she didn't ask what was wrong with him. Instead, they drank. His arm was stretched out across the back of the swing and she was laying with her head in his lap, her legs drawn up at one end to keep them from dragging the ground.
" You know I don't normally invite strange men home with me , " Meredith's voice was soft as she looked up at the stars above them.
" Well, for the record, I don't normally go home with strange women , " he looked down at her with a slight smirk.
" Good ," was her only response.
" Good," he echoed.
Derek really didn't feel like talking and apparently neither did she. They merely sat on the swing in companionable silence, drinking from their respective bottles. It most certainly was probably one of the strangest things he's ever done...going to the home of a woman whose name he doesn't even know two nights in a row. He likes that he doesn't know her name. She hasn't asked his, so he won't ask hers. Things become personal then and he likes things the way they are right now.
Her head rests in his lap and he idly runs his finger through her long hair. It's soft and it smells good, like some kind of flower. It's a dirty blonde in color and he's fascinated by it. He's never really care for blondes. Brunette's and redheads had been more of his style. Addison's red hair flashes through his mind and he takes another drink to chase her from his head. Maybe he's underestimated blondes. He hasn't given them a fair shot. Her head shifts against his thigh, turning to the side and he hears her yawn.
He wonders if that's his cue to leave, but she doesn't say anything so he doesn't. He just merely sits there with her, the only sound around them the squeaking of the chains from the swing. He watches her chest rise and fall and he realizes she's fallen asleep. He doesn't know if he's disappointed or not. He looks at his watch, noticing the time. He should probably go, but he doesn't want to leave her out here alone. So he picks up her purse and fishes her keys out. He doesn't recall which one she used the night before so he tries them all. When he's managed to get the door open, he returns for her. She's still in the same spot he left her and he gently slides his arms under her legs and loops her arm around his neck. She stirs only a little burying her face in the crook of his neck.
Derek makes his way up the stairs carefully, surprised at his own ability to be able to guide them both safely. He's had just as much to drink as she has, but somehow he is managing to walk straight. He finds the familiar room at the end of the hall and he moves to lay her down on the large bed. Her hand fists in his shirt and won't let go. So he lays down beside her, just to clear his head for a while. Then he'll call a cab and be on his way.
She isn't surprised to find him next to her in the morning. She is surprised however that they are both fully clothed. Well, except for shoes. She wakes up tucked up under his arm and curled against his chest. His arm is draped loosely around her waist and she decides that it feels nice. She can feel his deep breathing against her hair She call smell the slightest tinge of scotch on him and she imagines she herself smells like a bottle of tequila.
Meredith tilts her head up to look at him and once again she is struck by just how handsome he really is. One unruly curl rests against his forehead and fights the urge to reach up and touch it. Instead she merely keeps her head resting against his chest. His sweater is made of some kind of really soft cashmere and it feels good against her cheek. Distantly she wonders what she is doing with this man who she had thought of as nothing more than a one night stand. There is something drawing her to him though, like an unseen force. That's the only explanation she can come up with for why she invited him home with her again.
She blames it on the fact she hates waking up alone in this house. She always has. As a teenager it was never unusual for her mom to be gone. Ellis Grey was a hot commodity, an always in demand item. Her father had left when she was young and it had been pretty much always just been Meredith. Even when her mother was home, she was always locked up in her study, trying to come up with some new way to save someone's life.
She often wonders if her mother resents having her like Meredith resented not having her around as a teen. If her mother thinks of her as simply a tax write off. They have never been all that close, because Meredith wasn't a doctor, she was only a teenager. Ellis Grey had never liked cartoons and her daughter was merely a cartoon. A distraction.
Shaking her head from such disturbing thoughts, she closed her eyes and drifted back off to sleep, content to once again not be alone in this big empty house she had always called home.
Derek had meant to go home. Really he had. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work out that way. Once again he woke up beside the same tiny little blonde. Only this time clothes weren't thrown everywhere. She was pressed tightly up against his side and his arm was holding her securely in place. Her hand had somehow found itself inside his shirt and it was warm against his skin. Her cheeks were flushed from sleep and he couldn't help but smile to himself.
There were certainly worse ways to wake up in the morning. Not wanting to wake her, he simply laid there, his eyes scanning the room. Boxes were piled up in corners, some of them opened, some of them not. She must have just moved here. Or she was moving out. He really couldn't tell. He hoped it was the former and not the latter. His first two nights in Seattle had been made better by this tiny slip of a woman. He drew comfort from her presence in an odd sort of a way.
He liked the way her eyes had looked at him the first night. She had checked him out and made no secret about it. It had been a long time since he had been with someone other than his wife. He and Addison had rarely taken time to appreciate one another. They had simply gotten comfortable. It was nice to be looked at that way again. Like he was an attractive man. He had forgotten what it felt like.
