AN: To address a few complaints following the previous chapter: I understand the desire for longer chapters, however, that would equate to less frequent updates (once/twice a week vs. every night). Please let me know in a review what you would prefer and I will try my best to accommodate what the majority wants:)
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"We're standing on the moon, Dr. Grey."
Meredith was glad she had a surgical mask on. Otherwise, Derek might see the big, love struck grin she was wearing. The past two weeks had gone by surprisingly smoothly. She and Derek had yet to save a trial patient, but they were getting close. She could feel it.
Once she got over her hangover, she took Lexie's advice to heart. She secretly flicked through sperm donor catalogs on her lunch breaks. It wasn't serious - she had no idea where to even begin looking for a surrogate - but it sparked a tiny bit of hope in her that her life wasn't completely over.
Seconds after she and Derek injected the virus the monitors began to go haywire. "He's tachycardic," Meredith said urgently.
"Shit," Derek swore. "Dammit." He jerked his arm, causing a tray of surgical instruments to clatter to the floor. Meredith watched him helplessly. "We had it. We had it."
Meredith reached out and grabbed his forearm. "We still have it," she said firmly. "Look." She nodded at the monitor, where Darren's vitals were gradually leveling out. "We need to close and get him to recovery."
Derek looked like he could have kissed her. Accepting an instrument from Bohkee, Meredith squashed the thought and began reattaching the skull flap.
Twenty minutes later, she found herself side by side with Derek in a silent scrub room.
"He made it off the table," Derek commented in wonderment.
Meredith nodded. "He did."
"I hope you packed your best china, Dr. Grey. We may be drinking champagne tonight." Derek grinned and stepped towards the door.
"Wait," Meredith said abruptly. She grabbed Derek's forearm and closed the door behind him. "Meredith."
Derek's brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"Call me Meredith again."
Before she could calculate the potential consequences of her actions, Meredith smashed her lips against Derek's and pressed him against the door. He reciprocated the kiss immediately. It was every bit as wonderful as it had been two years ago.
"Wait," Derek panted. "We can't do it here. People die here. On call room."
Meredith nodded in agreement. She and Derek fumbled with the doorknob, grinning and giggling like teens at the prom as the half ran down the hallways to the nearest on call room. Mercifully, they didn't run into anyone.
Derek pulled her inside, locking the door behind them and crashing with her onto the bed.
"We're changing medical history," Meredith said breathlessly.
"I know."
"They're going to name a technique after us."
"I know."
"I want my name to go first. Alphabetical."
"Whatever you say, Lieutenant Grey."
Meredith shrieked as Derek flipped her over. His hands were fumbling with her scrub top, trying to pull it over her head. She shrugged her shoulders to make it easier for him. Once it was discarded on the floor, Derek began to tug on the tie around her waist, when suddenly he froze.
"What?" Meredith asked. She was lifting the hem of Derek's top.
Derek looked at her, and immediately Meredith knew that they would not be having sex. Her heart plummeted, and suddenly she realized. "Oh, Derek-"
"I thought you said you got shot," Derek said blankly. "This is a laparotomy incision."
"I did get shot. There was no exit wound. They weren't about to leave a bullet inside my gut," Meredith said hurriedly. Technically, she was only lying by omission. She really did not feel like going over this again.
Derek stared at her disbelievingly. "What happened to you, Meredith?"
Shaking her head, Meredith grabbed up her scrub top and began pulling it back on. She didn't appreciate staring at her scars like she was a patient. "They had to do a hysterectomy. I was going into DIC. Its really not a big deal-"
"What?" Derek looked devastated. Meredith couldn't for the life of her imagine why he would be so upset over this- it wasn't him with the missing ovaries.
"You're a doctor. When an organ is bleeding uncontrollably, you take it out."
"Right." Derek nodded, composing himself. "Well. I guess I really killed the mood, didn't I?" He smiled weakly.
"You did," Meredith mumbled. She stared down at the tile, and it dawned on her that she was sitting on a bed in an oncall room with a half naked Derek Shepherd. Mortified, she leapt to her feet. "Oh my god! We were about to sleep together!"
Derek shrugged. "Would that have been so terrible?"
"Yes," Meredith insisted. God, was she a hypocrite "We aren't doing - this." she waved in Derek's general direction. "This is strictly professional."
"Make medical history, not love," Derek repeated.
Groaning in frustration, Meredith tossed a pillow at his head. It knocked him over for a moment and he barked out a laugh. Taking full advantage of his momentary disorientation, Meredith slipped out of the room.
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