"I have a meeting with Richard in two days."
Meredith stands in the kitchen, smirking at Derek. She just read the email from the Cheif of Surgery requesting her to come in for the final interviews securing her job position.
Derek stops in the doorway, Bella running in happily from her walk outside. He makes eye contact with Meredith and frowns. "A meeting for what?"
She bites her lip. "My job."
His jaw drops. "You're staying permanently in Seattle? You decided?"
Up until now, Meredith hasn't really had anything tying her down to Seattle. The question of what she was going to do with the rest of her life when she finished recovering was constantly hanging over both of their heads.
While the last meeting she had provided some reassurance that she was considering staying, it was nothing official, just something for her to consider.
With her name a reputation, Meredith could get a job at any hospital in the country for any salary she wanted. She'd been doing research and making phone calls on her days alone at the house while Derek was at work.
However, no other hospitals in the nation have her best friends and her boyfriend- her family. "I mean, if you'll have me."
"Yes!" Derek laughs, closing the space between them to hug her, "I wouldn't have you anywhere else."
They kiss passionately for a long minute, and when they pull back, Derek demands details.
Meredith describes what Richard had discussed with her at their last meeting, weeks ago. "He told me there's an attending position available in General, but the Head of Trauma is open as well. I have to pick. This meeting is for contracts and all that."
"Which are you going to choose?"
"Trauma, I think. I get to head the department, I'll have Hunt and Kepner working under me again, and we'll make a hell of a team."
He nods, smiling largely. "I'm glad you can finally get back to work."
"Ah, you haven't cleared me to operate yet, Dr. Shepherd," she teases, then another thought enters her head and she sighs longingly. "My God, I can't remember the last time I was in a real OR."
"I seem to recall multiple surgeries a few months ago," Derek raises an eyebrow, leaning on the counter. She's standing a foot or two away from him.
"Not on the table. I mean operating. It's been far too long since I've been able to do what I love."
"Besides me," Derek smirks.
Meredith laughs and shakes her head. "Get your head out of the gutter." They kiss again, more passionately this time.
Sex jokes have been becoming increasingly common between the two.
Although, they both know her body's not ready for it...yet.
"I'm really happy for you. This is so exciting. I knew you'd want to stay here." Derek doesn't leave the embrace they've been holding since their kiss.
"I am, too. Megan says she thinks I'm ready to get back to work. Obviously, hospital jobs aren't nearly as strenuous as field missions in Afghanistan."
"How do you feel?"
"I need to cut. Desperately."
He rolls his eyes. "I mean physically."
"Like I'm ready to cut."
He kisses her lightly, cutting off their banter, knowing that if he continues this conversation, they'll get nowhere. Stubborn woman.
"I have PT tomorrow. You'll be working, right?"
Derek nods.
"Why don't I stay after so you can run whatever tests you desire on me. I want you to clear me to get back to work." Meredith steps back, suddenly serious.
Derek hesitates. It's not that he doesn't want her to do what she loves, it's that he's worried about her well-being while she's doing it. Physical and mental.
It's been a week since the party and neither of them has mentioned what she told him in the bathroom. Although, they have continued sleeping in Derek's bed together.
"Fine," Derek agrees. Maybe he can bring up therapy again tomorrow. Something else tugs at his mind, and he switches subjects. "Oh, there's a package on the porch. Says it's for you."
Without waiting for a response, he turns and heads back outside to the dirty, dented box on their porch. He lifts it and carries it into the living room, surprised at its weight.
Meredith follows him, frowning. The frown deepens when she sees a large USMC logo stamped on it.
Derek stands back, allowing her to tear it open herself. She gasps when she sees its contents, and he steps forward to see, curiosity getting the better of him.
Meredith hauls out a large, camo backpack, complete with worn, dirty patches and her name.
"Oh my God, it's my pack."
"Your what?" Derek sits on the couch as so does she, pulling the backpack into her lap.
"The bag that was on my back eighty percent of the time I was deployed. This thing carried everything I could need in it. I took it on the field missions. Other soldiers had weapons and things, mine had medical supplies." She brushes her finger over the small hole on the side. "It saved my life once, too."
"Is that a bullethole?" Derek's voice raises in shock, and Meredith laughs.
"Yes, yes it is," she answers casually without looking up. Her brows furrow. "Why did they take so long to ship it back to me?"
Derek inches closer to her, interested in seeing what, exactly is in her bag. He laughs out loud when she shifts it in her lap and sand falls all over her legs and onto the floor. "There's still sand in it!"
"Yeah, there's sand everywhere. If you look hard enough, it's probably still on me, too," she replies. Derek raises an eyebrow and smirks at her, and when she catches his expression she reddens slightly. "You have such a damn dirty mind."
They both laugh, and after another minute of searching the pockets, she gasps loudly, and her voice wavers. "Oh, my God."
Clutched tightly in her hand is a small chain with dog tags on it.
"Your dog tags?" Derek takes in the dirtied and bruised tags, and she nods, pulling them close to her chest, then her face. She closes her eyes.
"These mean more to me than all the awards in there," Meredith gestures towards the door to her bedroom. "Everywhere I went, these came with me. We like to think they're good luck. Kept me alive.
"But I wasn't wearing them during the explosion. I took them off to operate."
Derek wraps an arm around her shoulders, resting his chin on the base of her neck. Goosebumps break out on Meredith's skin where Derek's warm breaths tickle her.
"At least you have them back now, right?"
She smiles, pulling the tags around her neck and tucking them into her shirt. For a second, the familiar feeling of them resting on her chest brings her back to Afghanistan, but Derek's presence brings her right back.
Meredith sets the bag in front of her on the floor, studying it and basking in all the memories it brings back with it. She doesn't exactly have the energy to go through what little contents remain in it, knowing they'll surely put her directly into a flashback.
"What's that part for?" Derek asks, pointing to the small piece of fabric and straps on the front of the bag.
Meredith hesitates for a minute before responding. "A rifle. It's easy attachment and hangs down so you can grab in the second you need it."
He holds his breath before asking quietly, "Did you ever need it?"
"No. I know how to use one, but I never needed it. I used my handguns mostly, whichever model was holstered to my legs. It was the soldier's job to use the rifles and keep me safe when we went out, as I was there to save them in case anything went south. I was only ever deployed on the top, most important and dangerous missions when a field surgeon was absolutely needed."
Derek nods, and Meredith relaxes into his arms. He can sense her unease at the subject, so he lets it drop. Although, he is proud that she answered some of his questions honestly without fighting him on it.
Bella, after sniffing the bag for about five minutes jumps up and joins them on the couch, making for a very comfortable, relaxing setup.
Two days later, Meredith digs through her closet, pulling out her cammies. She smiles in satisfaction as she pulls on the heavy camo pants, belt, socks, and tucks in the plain t-shirt. These clothes are comforting, they show everything she stands for; perfect for an important job meeting. Intimidating, impressive, and really good-looking.
The post-op check she had yesterday had gone amazing, and she's been cleared to drive as well as light activities. Completely giddy with joy at the direction her recovery is heading, the only other thing Meredith wanted was to be cleared for surgery. That was the one thing Derek refused to budge on.
She moves to the bathroom to brush and gel her hair back into the tight, standard low bun on the back of her head. She steps back, admiring her appearance. She missed this. The feel of the uniform is extremely comforting, bringing back all sorts of memories.
Derek is on-call at the hospital, so she's alone, but she grabs a handful of cereal for breakfast and laces up her military-grade boots to complete the uniform. After letting Bella out one last time and checking her food and water bowls, Meredith grabs her camo jacket, leaves the house, and gets in her truck to drive to the hospital.
She walks into Seattle Grace, well aware of the eyes drawn to her. It's not every day you see a hot blonde in full military uniform.
Arriving on the surgical floor, Teddy appears at her side out of nowhere.
"Damn, Death. Lookin' good in those cammies. Interview day?"
"You know it." Meredith smiles. "Problem is, I have no idea where the Chief's office is."
"How long do you have?"
"An hour."
Meredith always gets places early, and she's never, ever late. The military has drilled punctualness into her for the past seven years, and some habits never die.
"Derek's in surgery, you could observe to kill some time."
Meredith smiles. Sure, she's heard all about Derek's surgeries from him, but she's almost never actually seen him operate. The two make their way to the gallery of OR 3, which is pretty full. They stand next to each other in the back. The intercom is on, so she can hear Derek's calming voice.
"Okay, the nerve is exposed. Sponge please?"
Meredith's eyes are drawn to his calm, confident demeanor. After a long few minutes of trying to figure out what he's doing, she asks no one in particular.
A young-looking resident answers her from their seat, and Meredith realizes that this is one of the hardest, most tedious neurosurgeries in the book. She steps closer, watching his every move, and it's hot. Really hot.
His confidence, even under pressure. Twenty more minutes pass, and she smiles as Derek passes the tools off to the resident assisting him so they can close. The surgery was a success, and she's disappointed she only caught the very end.
"I'm gonna meet him in the scrub room," Meredith turns and tells Teddy, then leaves the gallery.
As Derek scrubs out, he has a large, satisfied smile on his face. The smile grows even larger when the door opens and his girlfriend walks in.
"Whoa," he takes a second to admire her body in the uniform, and she smirks.
"That surgery was awesome. I caught the end."
"You did?" He frowns. He had no idea she was in the gallery.
"I did," Meredith steps closer to him when he finishes drying his hands, so close he can feel her light breath. "It was really hot."
"You look really, really good in that uniform."
They both laugh, and then their lips come crashing together in a heated, passionate kiss. After only a few seconds, tongues slip in, and they both become a little handsy.
"Ahem."
Someone clearing their throat causes the two to pull away abruptly and face where the sound came from. Meredith feels herself redden but relaxes when she recognizes Teddy leaning against the doorframe.
"I gotta get to my meeting with the chief," Meredith tells Derek.
"Let me walk you there," he offers instantly.
"Die was going to, but I'd be more than happy to have your company as well."
Teddy not-so-subtly rolls her eyes, and all of them begin their walk to Richard's office. Derek is tired from a long surgery, but can't help but overthink everything that's going to be said in this meeting.
"Derek, relax. I'm just negotiating my final contract. It won't take long, and everything will be fine," Meredith assures him, sensing his discomfort when they reach the door.
He nods and gives her a kiss for good luck. "I'll be in my office, find me when you're done."
xx
Meredith pulls the door to Richard's office closed behind her, unable to wipe a big smile off her face. In her hands, she holds the final contract for the Head of Trauma position, with a salary that would probably make even Derek droll.
She doesn't know the hospital too well yet, but she knows Derek's office is right above the main floor. Technically, her new office is there as well.
Meredith is just crossing through the main halls when she literally runs into Derek coming out of a stairwell.
"Whoa, hey. I thought you were going to be in your office?" Meredith recovers instantly.
He smiles and opens his mouth to reply when he's cut off by the beeping of his pager. Rolling his eyes, he pulls it out of his pocket.
All the joy and playfulness that had been there seconds ago disappears immediately.
"Code silver." Derek's eyes go wide as he stares at his pager.
"It's been almost a decade since I've worked in a hospital, you're going to have to remind me what the hell that is," Meredith says, taking in his reaction with confusion.
Derek is speechless. "It's probably a drill." His tone sounds more like he's trying to reassure himself. Meredith stands, desperately trying to recall old hospital codes, but silver is unknown to her.
"Derek!"
He snaps his gaze up to her, and she takes his pager from his hands, frowning when she reads the screen.
"We're on lockdown. What is a code silver?" She demands.
"Active shooter." Derek swallows thickly, subconsciously turning his head to check behind him.
Meredith hands his pager back to him and takes a steadying breath, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. "And I thought I was going to be done with guns when I got back to the states," she mutters.
"It's probably a drill," Derek repeats.
She looks at him disbelievingly. "Do you really want to take that chance?"
After spending seven years in the military, she's learned that whether it's a drill or not, you treat it like the real thing. Derek shakes his head.
"Lockdown. No one moves in or out. We have to hide." He recalls the protocol. Meredith opens her mouth to reply, but is stopped by a loud bang. She whips around to push Derek with her body against the wall, flattening them against it, and she looks towards the source of the sound but is thrown off by the echoing walls of the hospital.
"Was that...?" Derek breathes, unable to finish his sentence.
"Sounded like a Beretta." Meredith has shifted into a sharp, focused, military mode. "Where's the nearest room with a lockable door?"
"Down the hall, there's an on-call room," Derek answers, both confused and impressed that she's thinking and speaking so clearly, and keeping extremely calm. He's not used to the way her voice sounds right now, commanding and almost monotone. He almost doesn't recognize her.
"Follow me and be quiet," she orders, slowly moving along the wall. She folds her contract tightly and puts it in her pocket, forgetting about it for the time being. They reach the main lobby area around the floor nurse's station that, for some reason, is full of people.
The elevators are to the far left, a staircase and a small waiting area just past them. There's a conference room and a small office behind the nurse's desk.
Another gunshot rings, closer this time, and people start screaming.