Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy. I don't even own Pink, Red or Yellow's Anatomy. I do, however own Cassandra Ellis Grey.
Chapter 2 "Withholding the rest""Cassy," hissed Miss Christensen, "Do you know him?"
"Nope," said Cassy, crossing her arms. "Never seen him. I've never seen you," she said addressing the man. "I'm not getting in a car with you, uh-uh."
"It's good to see your mom teaches stranger danger." Derek chuckled. "I work with Meredith," he continued. "She got stuck in a complicated surgery, and was panicked about collecting Cassy. Actually, I never knew she had a daughter, I just came back from New York," he looked into Miss Christensen's disapproving glare. "But you really don't care. Anyway, I finished my shift and offered to pick her up. Mer and I, we go way back."
Miss Christensen involuntarily took a few steps backward, even though she believed the man.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Shepherd, but I can't let you take Cassy with you if I don't know who you are. It'd be irresponsible if I didn't."
"I'll call her then," said Dr. Shepherd. "In surgery."
- - -
"Hello?" the voice did not sound particularly pleased with an interruption.
"Miranda put Meredith on please." Derek grinned into the loudspeaker of his phone.
"What? Derek, she's in the middle of a hemispherectomy," said Dr. Miranda Bailey.
"You haven't softened up at all, even with a baby," said Derek.
"Oh, alright. GREY! Pain-in-the-ass on line one." Dr. Bailey held the phone to her ear.
"What?" Meredith was flustered.
"I'm at Cass's school, but Cassy and her teacher don't know me, can you verify that I am in fact picking Cassy up from school, on your orders?"
"Sure, Cassy, Miss Christensen, Derek is my colleague, and Cass he'll take you home and stay with you. He's got a key okay? Bed at 8.30 at the latest."
"Okay, mom," said Cass. "Love you."
"You too, bub," said Meredith. "Bye."
- - -
"You strapped?" enquired Derek as Cassy climbed into the back seat of his battered Camaro. Cassy nodded, staring intently into the rear-view mirror.
"So how do you normally get home?" he asked, looking back into her piercing blue eyes with own piercing blue eyes.
"Mom, normally. Or I go with Meg's mom and Meg. But usually mom tells me that. She must have had an interrupted day," said Cassy, thinking out loud. "So anyway, how do you know my mom?"
"We were…friends when she was doing her internship. You know what an internship is, right?" Cassy rolled her eyes.
"Duh. Why do people assume eight year olds are stupid?" She slumped back in her seat.
"I'm sorry, I won't make that mistake again," chuckled Derek. "Do Izzie and George still live at your place?" he asked.
"No," said Cassy, "Don't be ridiculous. They moved out before I was even born. It's just mom and me."
"What about you're dad?" asked Derek. Cassy laughed loudly. "Are you SERIOUS?" her jaw dropped, and she hung her tongue out of her mouth. "I don't think mom even knows who he is. Well, I think she does actually. She's tight-lipped about it though." Cassy shrugged. "Who needs a dad? Not me, I have mom. And she has me."
"Fair enough," reasoned Derek, looking at Cassy through the rear-view mirror more intently this time. "Who needs a dad?"
- - -
They arrived at Meredith and Cassy's home at about 4.45, and Cassy made herself a snack of graham crackers and grapes. "Want some?" she offered Derek, who declined, after eating some crackers.
"Well that's an oxymoron in the strongest sense," said Cassy.
Derek looked slightly confused at the eight year olds steady grammar, and Cassy sat herself down to do her homework. Derek wandered around the house, looking at pictures. There were numerous photos of Cassy - as a baby, chubby, round faced and inquisitive, up until now, an eight year old, holding her Washington State Spelling Champion trophy. There was a photo of Cassy riding on Meredith's back, photos of her with George and Izzie, Cristina and Preston and their son, William, now five.
On the mantle were a picture of Ellis Grey and numerous photos of Meredith with her friends. Derek was slightly hurt that there were none of him, but upon remembering, realised they hadn't taken any together.
"Excuse me," said Cassy. "Are you any good at math? This algorithm is killing me. Seriously."
"Seriously, hey? Well if it's seriously killing you, not just slightly, then I guess I can take a look at it." Cassy rolled her eyes.
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," she informed Derek.
"How do you tolerate your mom?" he joked, but Cassy didn't find it particularly funny. She pushed the pencil towards Derek and jabbed the paper. He illustrated the steps for Cassy and she politely thanked him.
"Third grade math is pretty hard, hey?" he asked.
"Um, no. This is fifth grade. Miss Christensen accelerated me." Derek whistled.
"Right – so why don't they just put you up to fourth grade?" he asked.
"They can't. I've already skipped year two. If they moved me up to fourth I'd be too young. I've only just turned eight."
- - -
It was eight thirty, and Cassy said good night to Derek.
"Sleep well," he said, offering his hand. Cassy shook it. "It was nice to meet you," he said, looking her in the eyes. "Really nice."
"Yes, you too. Tell mom to wake me when she comes in."
"Really?" Derek asked. "She'll wake you?"
"Of course," said Cassy. "I only saw her for an hour this morning. I'm not going to go 24 hours."
"Sure, well good luck with school. And you're algorithms," said Derek, and he was touched when Cassy stood on her tiptoes to offer him a kiss. He bent down and she kissed his cheek.
"Night, Derek. You really need to get rid of that stubble."