A/N: Thank you for all the love you have for this story! It makes me even happier to share it with you. Enjoy the new update!

Chapter 8

Meredith Grey is nervous. She hasn't been this nervous in years, but the mere idea of removing David Shepherd's stitches has her stomach tied in knots.

Or maybe it's more the way Derek is with David that makes her nervous.

Derek Shepherd is a dad.

It took her a bit to let it sink in, but now it's firmly embedded in her head, and she has a hard time believing it.

She has a thing for a dad. A single dad. Just perfect.

Meredith has a short shift today, just like the week before, and David is coming in at exactly the same time as last time, when he arrived screaming and covered in blood.

This time, when he sees her, he's smiling. He's walking beside his father, and the both of them have the most mischievous grins on their faces. Derek is in scrubs like the ninety-nine percent of the time she sees him, and she's glad he's not wearing jeans or a shirt or anything resembling what he wore at Joe's.

Except he makes scrubs look good. They look amazing on him. She only thanks the Lord they're not indigo blue like hers, or she would be screwed. He'd look amazing in attendings' scrubs. Thank God indeed for the seven years of residency.

"Dr. Grey!" David grins, greeting her with a strange excitement. "Are you going to take out my stitches?"

"I am," she smiles back, noticing that they have matching smiles. David is a compact version of Derek. Awesome.

"Good, 'cause they're itchy."

"I'm sorry," she sighs, motioning for him to sit on the exam bed. Derek picks him up under his armpits and plops him over the thin paper, David giggling happily. "Are you ready?"

"Yep!" he grins, though she sees him flinch a little as her hands come near his forehead.

"Hmm," she hums, making a show out of studying his cut. "I don't think there will be a scar," she smiles, then meets Derek's eyes for the first time. "What do you think, Dr. Shepherd?"

Derek's eyes are sparkling. "I agree with your assessment, Dr. Grey," he replies coyly. Is he flirting? Or is she so smitten that she hears him flirting even when he's just amusing his own son?

This is all kinds of bad.

"And even if there is a scar, scars make you brave," she concludes, trying to make the boy feel better.

"My Daddy has a scar just like mine," David shrugs, then tugs at Derek's hand. "See?" he says, brushing away Derek's curls to reveal his forehead. Their faces are practically aligned.

Derek's eyes are so blue. So, so blue. She gulps.

"I can see. Did he fall on the coffee table too?" She asks, joking, in order to avoid looking at how blue Derek's eyes are.

"He crashed a bike," David says seriously. "Nana was real mad."

"I bet. Was he a little boy like you or older?"

"I'm not little," David retorts, and it brings a smile to her face. "And Daddy was in school already."

"College. I was twenty-one and I crashed a motorbike, not a normal bike."

Her eyes widen. Derek Shepherd, on a motorbike. Wow. She's...nope, not going there. Not thinking about him and leather jackets and straddling things. She'd be the one doing the straddling either way.

Stop.

She takes a big gulp of air, disposing of the stitches to clear her head, avoiding the boyish smirk on her intern's face. Intern should be enough of a turn off, even without the kid currently dangling his legs off the exam table, but neither deterrent seems to be working.

"My nana was a little mad at me too for running around," David says sadly, his gaze low on his feet.

Meredith crouches down, trying to meet his eyes. "She was right, it was dangerous. You could have gotten seriously hurt."

"Daddy told me," he sighs. "He hugged me all tight too, so I know it was dangerous. He always hugs me tight when it's dangerous."

Her heart squeezes in her chest. She knows what Derek might have felt. She would hug the boy too if she had gone through the same thing.

"I promised I'd be good," David murmurs.

"I'm sure you're good, most of the time," she smiles gently, and the boy reciprocates it in stride.

"He tries." Derek chuckles, his hand moving up to squeeze David's shoulder, then abruptly falling at his side. The inability to touch his own son must suck, and yet, the two of them are tight as thieves.

"Daddy, you always get me ice cream when I'm really good and brave after OT," David begins, a clear glint in his eyes, "I was really good and brave."

Derek laughs. A full laugh that makes her insides tingle and her lips curl up automatically.

"Was he really good and brave, Dr. Grey?" he asks, mirth still filling his tone.

"He was," she says, and she couldn't have said otherwise. The two of them being this happy is so damn mesmerizing.

"Dr. Grey, you can come too!" David proposes. "Daddy knows a place where ice cream is really yummy. Do you like ice cream?"

"I do, but – "

"Good! Daddy likes gross coffee ice cream but you don't, right, Dr. Grey?"

"I like strawberry," she smiles, trying to calm down his excitement, trying to communicate her panic with Derek.

"Nugget, maybe Dr. Grey has to work some more..."

"We can wait. Or she works all the night like you do?"

"Sometimes she does, Dave."

"Oh," he gulps, his whole body deflating. He's breaking her heart. This boy is more dangerous than his father.

"Not tonight," she says gently. "I'm done working after you leave," she admits.

"Oh!" David grins, his eyes lighting up again. "Daddy is done working too!"

"You don't have to come, Dr. Grey," Derek whispers as David keeps talking excitedly about the ice cream parlor.

"I can't say no to that," she nods, a soft smile on her lips as David's arms and hands keep flailing around as he explains something about ice cream she's definitely missing, too engrossed by the way Derek's body has moved closer to hers to whisper in her ear.

"True," Derek chuckles. "I've been trying for almost five years. I can manage it, sometimes."

She melts at his soft smile. The way he looks at his son makes her insides turn into goo.

"Can we go?" David smiles, twinkling eyes and all, and she's done for good.

"We'll meet in the lobby after we have changed?" She smiles at Derek, trying to ignore how her cheeks are heating up.

"You're coming, Dr. Grey?" David's grin widens.

"I am." She wants to touch the boy's shoulder, mess his hair or something, but she doesn't. She physically restrains herself from doing so. She gives him a big grin instead, and he bounces. He lights up and physically bounces on the exam table.

David Shepherd is adorable.

"Meet you in ten," she sighs, then bolts out of the room, avoiding Derek's gaze she feels on her back. Or maybe he's looking at her ass? Bad, bad thoughts before ice cream with an almost-five year old.

She's going to be a terrible influence.

Meredith tries to ignore the voice in her head telling her that's it's a terrible idea, and instead she focuses on David. David who has SPD and who she needs to remember not to touch.

She fucks up talking to normal kids, she has no clue how to treat David. Except the boy seems to like her a lot. Though maybe it's an inherited trait, his father seems gregarious enough for David to pick up on it. They definitely have the same charm, even though the pocket-sized version of Derek Shepherd doesn't have his crooked nose.

They really look alike seen from a distance, sitting in the lobby with their heads bent over a magazine.

Good God, Derek is in a sweater. If scrubs were sexy, sweaters are making her panties uncomfortable. Crap. Double crap when he smiles. Triple crap when David dishes out a smile that matches McDreamy's perfectly. Crap, crap, crap.

She takes a deep breath as she walks near them, clutching her purse, closing her eyes for a second as she gathers her wits. She won't jump Derek Shepherd in front of his son, she won't. Her intern can't be jumped.

"Where are we going?" She uses as a greeting, smiling down at David.

"The Ice Bear!" David exclaims, jumping off the chair. "It's the bestest place for ice cream and it's so close," he explains. "Come on, I want my ice cream."

Derek grins, falling into step with her as David leads the way. "Sorry about his excitement. He gets like that. And it's not even the SPD, just my weird kid."

"Oh," she giggles, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Thank you for coming. I know you didn't have to."

"Usually, I eat ice cream with my youngest patients in their rooms," she hums. "After surgery."

"You get them ice cream?"

"Yeah. When they try solids," she shrugs. "It's perfectly solid."

"If you say so, Dr. Grey."

They laugh awkwardly, except it feels natural to joke with him and walk with him through the parking lot, David bouncing in front of them.

"The kids had brain surgery, they should loosen up."

"True. Also, you're my attending, I trust your methodology."

Yeah, right. She wants to hit him when he smiles so smugly. Pompous ass. Gorgeous, too, though.

"Dr. Grey, do you like sprinkles?" David asks, beaming. "Or whipped cream? Chocolate sauce?"

"All of them?" she grins. David's eyes are as wide as saucers.

"All of them together?!"

She feels Derek glaring at her. "No, not all of them together," she says, clearing her throat. Yep, she's a bad influence on the kid.

"Your favorite?"

"Chocolate sauce," she smiles. "Especially on chocolate ice cream," she winks.

"Mine too!" David grins. "Daddy, can I get chocolate with chocolate sauce like Dr. Grey?"

"Meredith," she blurts, before she can stop herself. That boy is way too charming. "Since we're ice cream twins you can call me Meredith."

"That's a pretty name. Isn't that a pretty name, Daddy?"

Derek clears his throat. "Yes, pretty." His eyes are twinkling so much she's not sure what the hell does he mean with that. This is so, so wrong.

Before she knows, Derek opens the door to a small corner shop right across the street from the hospital, keeping the door open for her. She blushes when she passes by him. The man smells good.

Immediately, David grabs a booth and plops down, bouncing on the seats.

"Can you sit here, please, Meredith?" he asks politely, patting the seat next to his.

She sighs, then leaves her bag next to him. "I'm going to get my ice cream first, okay? I'll be right back."

"Kay," he shrugs, smiling.

She gets in line but then she sees that Derek has already grabbed two cups of ice cream. Both are chocolate with chocolate sauce.

"Dr. Shepherd," she sighs, walking to him. "Derek," she blurts, staring him down.

"He invited you, I was going to pay. Consider it returning the favor for last week," he smirks, thrusting the ice cream in her hands. "Hope a cup is okay. I can get you a cone."

"This is fine, it's okay, it's perfect and I'll just…"

"Yeah," he hums, his eyes sparkling. Stupid blushing. "I'll be right with you."

Meredith takes David's ice cream too and walks back to the booth where the boy is sitting. This is going to be the longest ice cream time of her life.

Derek's heart soars at the sight of David talking so freely with a near stranger. He's usually shy and rambly when he meets people, but he hit it off immediately with Dr. Grey. Meredith. God, he'd say her name forever. Better if he'd scream himself hoarse while saying it but...okay, that was uncalled for.

She is gorgeous, though, that he can't deny. Even after her shift, wearing nothing but slightly baggy jeans and a plain t-shirt, she looks gorgeous. And he's doomed.

She's laughing happily with David, her green eyes twinkling, and he has no idea how to keep himself from kissing her in front of his son.

"Daddy! Meredith thinks this is the bestest ice cream ever!" David exclaims as soon as he spots him, and his smile widens automatically. It has been a hard week, an uncomfortable one for both of them, and he's glad to see David smiling this widely again.

"Pretty good, uh?" he says, sneaking a look at her as he sits right opposite to her.

"I'll definitely come back after a long shift."

"Or grab the ice cream for your patients here."

She laughs loudly when he winks, and he wants to hear that sound more often. She's usually so serious, so focused, it's nice to see her loosen up. Of course she has to be serious at work, she's a neurosurgeon, and a young one at that, someone that has everything to prove, but he knows that he'd be lucky if he becomes even half of the neurosurgeon she already is. Because she shares ice cream with her patients, and if David loves her, she's genuinely a good person, considering how picky his son is with his friends or how hard it is for him to open up to people.

"Here," she says softly, holding out a napkin to David, whose mouth is rounded with chocolate. He almost has a beard, not just moustaches. "There's ice cream on your nose too."

Derek is about to reach out and do it himself, because that's what he usually does, but David ignores him and just moves his face towards the napkin she's holding out.

"Can you do it? I can't see my nose."

She giggles, gently wiping his son's nose, and while David looks pretty uncomfortable for a millisecond, he grins and bears it. She cleans him with the same gentleness she used while she was stitching him up, and he could watch them together forever.

Oh, wow. This is bad. Thinking about forever is bad. David doesn't need a mother, no matter how much he wants him to have one. This is way too rushed. Definitely not thinking about forever when they have barely kissed and shared a couple of drinks in a bar.

He'll blame a brain freeze for these thoughts. It's definitely better than admitting how attracted he is to his attending.

Brain freeze it is.

A/N: So, did this second meeting between Meredith and David meet your expectations?

I received a couple of guest reviews asking for daily updates, and I have to tell you, that's not my MO. I can't do daily updates, not even if I wanted to. I can do weekly at best. I know it can be frustrating, but I wish I could dedicate my whole day do fanfic/writing and do nothing else.

Also, I remember a guest saying that maybe Meredith can find a cure for David: there's no cure for what he has. SPD is a different way of processing what happens around him in terms of sounds, sights, touches and smells/tastes. He can mange it and live a normal life, but he needs to learn a few techniques, hence why he goes to occupational therapy. It is usually associated with forms of autism, but it's not what David has. If you guys want more details, contact me on Twitter (IreneB92) so I can send you a bunch of links I used during research. I'm also glad that for those who are familiar with SPD, this story feels authentic. I couldn't have wished for anything better!

Thank you for reading, even my ramblings!