Okay, so…this took forever. I haven't abandoned the story, but I have had to work much, much more than normal lately. So, I've had a lot less time to write. Anyway, my apologies for that. And thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I'm really glad you guys liked what happened, I was so nervous about writing him proposing. But yeah, this is super late in coming, so lets just go straight to the story!

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Run conversations in my head
Write my own scripts to dish the dread
And if I speak out loud
I will have to change the rules
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When Meredith and Derek finally emerged from the pantry, the party was every bit as loud as it had been before. People milled about laughing and talking and occasionally tripping over the many strands of pink lights that ran crisscrossed throughout the rooms. It was loud and bright and just as potentially overwhelming as before. However, Meredith found she didn't mind. For once, she was just holding Derek's hand, not clutching it in a death grip. Breathing in deeply, she glanced up at him, her face brightening into a smile as their eyes met.

"Guess what?" she asked.

Derek cocked his head to the side curiously, staring down at her, "What?"

"I don't even mind the insanity anymore," she said proudly. "I mean, it's still crowded, but…I'm not freaking out." She grinned up at him, and, for a moment, his smile matched hers, but it promptly fell away, darkened by a shadow of a frown.

"You're sure?" he asked.

Meredith nodded, still beaming at him.

"Because…" Derek suggested, his voice hopeful. "We could go back in the pantry if you're not."

She shrugged, "No… I'm good. The pantry really wasn't all that comfortable."

"You're sure?" he repeated. "Because, we could even go upstairs. There are beds there," he winked, leering down at her, "and I've heard they're very comfortable."

Meredith folded her arms over her chest, her expression growing instantly skeptical.

"Derek…"

"If you need to," he amended hastily. He dropped his hands to her stomach, adding, "You know, for the baby," even as the heavy-lidded look to his eyes strongly hinted at a different reason.

"Derek Shepherd," she quirked an eyebrow, "what is up with you?" Lowering her voice slightly, she twisted around in his arms to face him. "And it better not be you trying to use your daughter as an excuse to go get laid."

Derek's eyebrows shot straight up, his mouth parted slightly in shock as a guilty look flashed across his face. However, in the next instant, he slid effortlessly into a grin that only hinted ever so slightly at the fact that he was up to something. "I am shocked, Dr. Grey," he teased, kissing her neck haphazardly as he walked her backwards through the room, mindless of the people around them. "Shocked that you think I could be guilty of something so vile, so base as--"

"Oh shut up," she laughed, moving to kiss him as her back met the wall and he leaned forward, bracing himself with an arm on either side of her. Derek dipped his head down towards hers, their lips pressing hard together as she reached up and let her fingers slide through the curls of his hair, holding him closer.

"We're engaged…" He mumbled into her mouth just as they started to pull apart, his voice a low hoarse whisper that warmed her from the inside.

"We are," she agreed quietly, still filling with wonder at the mere sound of the words. She ran her tongue slowly along the curve of her lower lip, lost in thought until she glanced up again and met Derek's eyes. "What?" she asked innocently, laughing at his expression.

"I think," he began, keeping his voice carefully casual, "that once you get engaged, you're supposed to go have sex right away."

Meredith raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching at the corners as she stifled a laugh. "Oh really?"

Derek nodded seriously, bending down to kiss her again. "Really," he agreed. "It's, ah…" he paused, his mouth dragging over hers, "…a rule."

"A rule?" she murmured back before catching his lower lip between her teeth, and pulling a groan from him. She tilted her head to the side, letting his lip slip from her clutches as she grinned, speaking pertly, "Well, you would know." He just chuckled low in his throat, shaking his head at her.

"In that case," he said, closing the gap between them, pressing a fleeting kiss to the tip of her nose. "You should definitely listen to me." Scooting even closer still, until her belly was pressed firmly against him, Derek allowed a cluster of people to weave past, ignoring the curious looks the two of them were earning as they stood pinned to the wall. Instead, he focused on trailing kisses down the length of Meredith's jaw line until he finally reached her lips once more. "We need to--" he continued, punctuating his words with kisses, "preserve the… moment, or… something like… that."

Meredith just giggled into his mouth and pulled back, the pale green of her eyes sparking mischievously. "Preserve the moment?" she echoed. "You're starting to sound like a woman."

He shot her a wounded indignant look. "I am not."

"Hmmm…right," she smiled blithely. "Whatever you say."

"And if I say we should go upstairs?" he tried.

Meredith's smile blossomed into a grin, and she shook her head disbelievingly. "You want us to have celebration sex right now? Seriously?"

Derek shrugged. "Just throwing out an idea."

"Right…and what made you think that this could possibly be a good idea?"

"Well," he began slowly, his mouth curling invitingly as he smirked at her. "Did I mention that the idea included sex with you?"

She flushed and bit her lip, staring up at him almost adoringly for a moment before remembering just where they were. She promptly backed away, rolling her eyes as she hissed, "Your mother is here. Your mother and a hundred other people." Derek opened his mouth to protest, but she just shook her head. "I don't like random people walking in on me naked, and you know someone would walk in. We can celebrate later." She raised up on her toes, pressing her lips lightly against his. "Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, his voice tinged with reluctance. He shifted his weight to envelop Meredith in his arms again, unwilling to do anything other than hold her and touch her and marvel at the fact that she had somehow agreed to be his wife.

"Cristina…" she mumbled suddenly, the word spilling from her lips as he moved in to kiss her.

Derek pulled back slightly, frowning as he raised an eyebrow, correcting, "…Derek."

Meredith just rolled her eyes. "No, I have to tell Cristina," she said eagerly, back to grinning again. "Where is she? She's going to--" She trailed off, a sudden pained look crossing her face. "Oh god…" she muttered to herself.

"What?"

"She's gonna start calling me the She-Shepherd."

"The She-Shepherd?" echoed Derek, looking amused.

"Yeah…" Meredith shrugged, wrinkling her nose at the thought. "It's what we used to call Addison."

"Seriously?"

She nodded, already twisting about to look for her friend. "At least on good days," she said absently.

"And on bad days?" he questioned, growing intrigued.

"Oh, you know…Satan, Satan's Whore," Meredith rattled off, not really paying attention as she continued to scan the crowd for Cristina. "Stuff like--" she stopped short, her mind seeming to just then catch up with her mouth as she whirled back around to face Derek. "Oh god…don't tell her that," she blurted out, her eyes wide and worried. "I don't need her to have more reasons to hate me."

"Mer," said Derek gently, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek. "Addison doesn't hate you."

"Yeah, I know, but…" Meredith shrugged, the green of her eyes tinged with guilt as she chewed on her lower lip. "She might if she knew, and she's been so nice lately." Her voice turned into a moan, and she shook her head. "We were all really rather rude and horrible. It's embarrassing." She glanced up at Derek, who simply looked amused, and crossed her arms over her stomach. "What is so funny?" she snapped.

He shrugged, eyes full of laughter.

"Derek, this is not funny," she groaned, her mood shifting towards irritated. "I can't believe I told you."

"Mer," he said paiteintly. "I already know your mouth, while cute, is surprisingly dirty. Nothing you came up with could shock me," he paused, amending, "at least, not anymore."

Meredith rolled her eyes even as relief filled her, and she slid into a slow teasing smile. "Good," she said, her voice as brisk as her gaze was languid. "Because you didn't escape either, mister."

"What?"

"Your names were worse."

"My names?" he repeated, sounding a little incredulous. However, Meredith only nodded. "Worse than Satan?"

She nodded again, "Oh yes."

Derek tilted his head to the side, his eyes searching hers. "What were they?" he challenged.

"I'm not telling you," she said simply. "We just got engaged, and I'd like to do my part to ensure we stay that way." He grinned as she shook her head, her lips pressing into a stubborn line that promised silence.

"That bad, huh?"

She raised a shoulder in a slight, uncertain shrug. "Just help me find Cristina already so I can tell her," she entreated, powerless to stop the strange giddy rush that kept bubbling up inside of her at the thought of marrying Derek--something foolish and girly that made her giggle and shake her head.

"Okay," he agreed, relenting and pressing his lips to her forehead. "You want to tell everyone tonight?" he asked eagerly, his own voice full of excitement as well.

But, at his words, Meredith balked, staring blankly up at him. She stayed frozen for close to a solid minute, her eyes wide and fearful.

"No," she managed at last, her voice small.

"No?" He brushed a hand against the smooth plane of her cheek, fingers curling around the tendrils of her hair. His voice was gentle, but bellied by uncertainty at her sudden change in mood.

"No," Meredith repeated, sounding a little less shaken. She sighed and grasped his hand, offering him an apologetic grimace. "I don't want your mother to know until there are several thousand miles between me and her." Derek simply nodded, offering her his silent agreement, and so she continued on hopefully. "I'm not telling people…I'm telling Cristina." Meredith's smile was entreating, and her words twisted pleadingly, "Can we wait a bit for everyone else? Please?"

"Of course," he said softly, his eyes piercing straight into hers as if a common thread connected them. He pressed his forehead to hers, the touch a gentle intimate whisper of contact. "We'll do this exactly how you want to do it," he promised. And then, in a breath, his expression morphed into a teasing grin. Leaning to the side, his voice became a low whisper against her ear, "We can even elope if you want. Right this second."

Meredith just laughed, shaking her head incredulously. "What I want is for you to help me find Cristina."

"Okay," he agreed, reluctantly stepping back to free her from her position against the wall. They wove together through the house in a searching silence, calm save for the strange indecipherable looks he kept casting at her with growing frequency.

"What?" blurted out Meredith at last, a hand on her hip. Derek just looked at her curiously, sporting a mask of practiced innocence that she saw straight through. "What are you up to?" she insisted, quirking an eyebrow.

"Nothing…"

"Oh please. You have that evil mastermind thing going on," Meredith pointed her finger at his face, "all plotting and scheming." She grinned at him over her shoulder, mischievous, teasing and insistent as they made their way from the kitchen into the hall. "Out with it."

"Well," he began slowly. "Once you tell Cristina, it's official right?" Meredith's eyebrows just hiked up even higher, her smile plummeting down into an open mouthed gape of pure incredulity. "I have four sisters," he muttered, flushing slightly. "No judging, just answer the question."

Meredith rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Yes."

"Good, so…" he rubbed his hands together, suddenly smirking at her, "if I have a person I need to tell too, and we just tell Cristina today, technically we have to have the same celebration sex twice, after mine and after yours."

"You have someone to tell?" asked Meredith curiously.

"Oh…" Derek shrugged, his voice nonchalant yet full of laughter and something devious. "I probably have about seven or eight people, and I'll need to tell them each on separate days."

Meredith let out a short snort of shocked amusement. "Shut up, and help me find Cristina," she said, swatting him even as they shot each other slow appraising smiles that hummed with promises and lust.

Reluctantly, Derek tilted his head towards the far side of the front room, having already caught sight of the intern several minutes earlier. "She's right over there," he admitted. Following his line of sight, she spotted Cristina standing with Izzie and George, gathered around a nearly demolished buffet tray.

"Great. Thank you," she said lightly. "Now go away."

"What?" Derek frowned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in confusion.

Meredith sighed, shaking her head. "I can't talk about how charming my boyfriend is with my charming boyfriend standing right there…" She trailed off, a strange look of muted delight crossing her face. "Fiancé," she corrected herself, giggling as the word rolled easily off her tongue.

"Well actually," said Derek, tracing the slender circle of her wrist with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm happy to discuss just how charming I am with you whenever you feel like it."

"How very big of you," she shot back, tilting her head to grin broadly up at him. "Now go away. Please?"

"Okay," he agreed, kissing the top of her head before walking away, smiling to himself as she made her way eagerly across the room towards the other interns.

"Hey," Meredith blurted out as she finally reached them. She was beaming, her hands clasped tightly together in tense excitement, looking almost more like Izzie than the blonde herself.

"What happened to you?" asked Cristina, her voice ripe with confusion as she turned and caught sight of Meredith's blindingly intense smile and the dreamy wandering sheen to her eyes.

Meredith just shrugged, and even that small action seemed lighter than normal, supported by an uncharacteristic thread of something purely giddy and delighted. "Nothing happened to me," she answered laughingly, her face splitting once more into a smile. "Why would you think something happened to me?"

Her question conjured up three nearly identical looks, masks of skepticism and uncertainty turned in her direction.

She frowned slightly, but didn't really seem to mind. Instead, she shot Cristina a look, tilting her head away from the group.

"Uh…" Cristina quirked a puzzled eyebrow, not catching on immediately.

"Are you okay?" interjected Izzie, interrupting the silent exchange of pointed glances and half shrugs that the other two women had been engaged in.

"Huh?" Meredith blinked and looked back over, reflexively nodding her head. "Oh…yeah," she said softly as she forced herself out of her dizzying thoughts and into the conversation in front of her. "I'm great. Derek's great. The baby's great," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth way too fast, seeming to bypass her brain and head straight for her lips. She took a deep breath, trying to slow down, "Actually," but, as she paused her smile widened once more, and then she was off again, trying to contort her thick core of happiness into something coherent, and failing miserably. "We're better than great. This is a great party. It's all just so--" She trailed off, her voice tumbling and breathless, shrugging as she grinned to herself.

"Great?" supplied George wryly, simultaneously bemused and entertained.

But Meredith just nodded again, hardly even registering his expression. "Yeah," she agreed, some small sensible part of her knowing full well that she was sounding ridiculous, yet powerless--and completely unwilling--to stop herself. She simply indulged in yet another smile, her eyes lighting up.

Cristina cleared her throat, still a perfect portrayal of incredulity, "Even with the hateful mother, and the snob of a sister, and the ten thousand people Izzie decided to tack onto the guest list? Seriously?"

"Hey!" interjected Izzie. "There's nothing wrong the guest list. Meredith just said it was great."

"Yeah, and Meredith's clearly delusional."

"No she's not. Meredith, are you delusional? Mer?"

Meredith just shrugged, skirting the questions. "I'm cheerful," she said stubbornly. "It's my party and I'm cheerful. Why is this such a strange thing? You think I can't be cheerful?" She stared challengingly at her friends as the light in her eyes darkened defensively.

"Last I checked, cheerful wasn't a synonym for deranged. Unless of course we're talking about the freaking Bobbsey twins here," said Cristina, tilting her head towards Izzie and George.

Izzie scowled at her, and George cleared his throat, his voice gentle, placating. "Ah, no…you can be cheerful, Mer. It's good that you're cheerful."

"Exactly," agreed Izzie forcefully, giving an emphatic nod of her head. "Cheerful is good. We understand it. Cristina may not, but we…do."

"Okay then," said Meredith slowly, smirking a little as she cast a sidelong glance at Cristina, some of her giddy joy peeling off to be replaced with dry amusement at their replies. She bit her lip to keep from giggling. There was a reason her best friend was Cristina, and not Izzie or George, after all. "Cristina, I need you to come and…help me with something," she tried, no longer babbling inanely, but still feeling utterly unable to come up with a convincing excuse.

However, Cristina just shrugged, not at all concerned with being discreet. "Sure." She pointed a finger back and forth between Izzie and George, reiterating her earlier statement with a simple, "Deranged."

Izzie huffed as she watched the two of them walk away, folding her arms over her chest in disapproval as her lower lip slipped out into a pout. "There's something going on," she muttered to George. "Mer's up to something."

He only shrugged. "Maybe she's just happy."

Izzie let out a disparaging scoff of a sigh, rolling her eyes.

"That's a good thing, Iz," insisted George.

"No," she said shortly. "Mer's never that happy. Ever." She frowned as she followed Cristina and Meredith with her eyes; the women had crossed to the far side of the room, and stood separate from everyone else. Even from across the room, their conversation appeared animated and clearly intimate, and Izzie sighed again as she felt an old familiar pang of jealousy. She was Meredith's roommate, and yet it was always Cristina who got to hear everything first. It was always the two of them off together in their super secret world. She scowled softly, another sigh escaping her lips. "Something's going on," she repeated, turning squarely to face George as if challenging him to deny it.

"Izzie," he tried--puzzled, confused, failing to see anything worth getting worked up over.

She just tugged insistently on his arm, spinning him around to get a better view of Meredith and Cristina, who still stood together, laughing. "See?" she insisted. "I bet she's telling Cristina right now. Whatever it is…"

"So?" George frowned at her. "If there's something to tell, we'll find out when Meredith tells us."

"Right," muttered Izzie darkly. "Or it'll just be another Meredith and Cristina thing, and they'll never tell us."

George quirked an eyebrow as a knowing look finally crossed his face, and he nodded, amused, understanding, and a little bit smug, "You're jealous."

"I'm not jealous," she huffed. George just raised his eyebrow even higher, and she threw her hands up in exasperation. "I just don't get why everything is always, 'Oh, we're Meredith and Cristina, super secret best friends,'" she whined, knowing she sounded bitter, but not really caring.

"It's just their thing," offered George, trying to be helpful, but Izzie's only response was to roll her eyes and start to walk away. "Iz," he pressed, trotting forward a few steps to catch up with her. "What're you doing?"

"Talking a walk," she said blithely, casting another glance at the sight of her friends tucked away in the farthest corner of the room.

"You're spying on them," he countered.

"No." She shook her head decisively. "I'm walking through my home, where I pay rent."

George sighed as Izzie pulled her arm back from him. "I am so not involved in this," he muttered.

"Whatever," she said absently, her curiosity already more than piqued by the secretive way her friends were bending their heads together. She drifted closer--grateful for the crowds of people concealing her from view--straining her ears to tune into their conversation.

"Seriously Mer, just spit it out already."

That was Cristina, obviously--sharp, brisk, impatient. She had to struggle harder to hear the reply, the quieter pitch of Meredith's voice being easily blotted out by the background hum of party noises swelling throughout the entire first floor. But, a few steps closer, and Izzie heard it, the sound starting with a gentle sigh.

"Fine," muttered Meredith. "I was just trying to build the suspense, make it more climactic or whatever. But Derek and I, we--"

"If this is gonna be another weird story about pregnant sex, I really don't need to--"

Izzie leaned forward, intrigued, and caught sight of Meredith rolling her eyes. "No," she huffed, cutting Cristina off. She hesitated for a moment, her face brightening once more into its now familiar grin. "We got engaged."

Cristina's eyebrows shot straight up as Izzie's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Seriously?" asked Cristina. Meredith just nodded, looking at her eagerly. "You're gonna be a McWife?" Izzie bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from letting out an excited squeal, a gasp, any form of acknowledgement, really as Cristina held out her hand, palm up, stating, "Let's see it, then."

"I, ah…" Meredith glanced down at her hands, wiggling ten bare fingers. "I don't have one yet."

"What? You mean McDreamy didn't get you a rock big enough to live under?"

Meredith shrugged, shaking her head. "I think it was a very spur of the moment thing," she explained. "I don't really need a ring, but…he wants to get one, so…whatever."

Izzie leaned even farther forward, catching sight of the two women squeezing each other's hands tightly--as if they knew it was typical to hug, but neither really felt like going through the trouble. She sighed inwardly, her excitement close to bubbling over as she did her best to stifle the urge to burst into the conversation herself.

Cristina was regarding Meredith skeptically, one eyebrow raised, her eyes dark and serious. "You're not freaking out?"

"No," breathed Meredith, shaking her head. "I'm not. That's weird, right?" Cristina just shrugged, and Meredith sighed, adding, "I'm sure I'll freak out later."

"Good," smirked Cristina. "Try to do it once I've gone home." Her expression remained hard and intense, but her voice softened into something so uncharacteristically gentle that Izzie almost started forward in shock. "You're happy, though?"

"Yeah," answered Meredith, her voice still quiet, but spiraling out to fill her smile with something bright and breathtaking. "I really am."

"Then I'm happy for you, McWife," said Cristina, placing a smarting emphasis on the final word.

Meredith glared at her, pulling her hands back to fold her arms stubbornly over the rise of her stomach. "You don't get to call me McWife."

"You're marrying McDreamy, right?" challenged Cristina, to which she could only nod. "Then you're McWife."

"You're marrying McDreamy?"

Somehow, the words came flying out of Izzie's mouth without her permission. It was as if they had been pressing full force against her lips since the moment she'd first heard them, weakening her resistance little by little until she was unable to suppress the urge to speak any longer. Her impulses took control, and she nearly shouted, her voice bouncing loudly through the crowded room, reverberating with shock and excitement. She gasped in a stunned, belated apology, biting her lip as Meredith and Cristina whirled around to finally catch sight of her.

"Izzie…" hissed Meredith, filled with shock and frustration as she glared at Izzie. She opened her mouth to shush her, but the words were already traveling from person to person around the room, repeated over and over like some insistent echo trapped in a cave. She blinked, but could manage nothing more than that, feeling suddenly paralyzed as she found dozens of eyes once again fixated on her. It was as abrupt as the bursting of a balloon, her eager, giddy rush of emotions paling and growing cold. Yet again, a chorus of voices was surrounding her, drowning her, suffocating her with a thousand questions and congratulations.

"Yeah…" she managed to force out at last, giving a shaky nod of her head. She was scanning the room desperately for Derek--feeling as helpless as a deer suddenly caught immobile in the harsh glare of headlights--but found her eyes locking with the wrong pair of deep blue eyes. And, while her excitement had already drained away, this was like a bucket of ice water suddenly plummeting down over her, fusing with and destroying the warmth in her veins. Jacqueline was staring at her--her face a quiet mask of polite shock, but her eyes were something dark and furious, and Meredith found she couldn't look away. She could only gape as the bubble she'd been living in since saying yes shattered into a thousand pieces. Every last ounce of pain and tiredness awoke again within her with full force as she faced the eager crowd, and its dark-haired, blue-eyed, hateful center.

"Yes, we're getting married," came another voice, its deep familiarity filling Meredith with instant relief. She turned slightly to find Derek already beside her, pulling her flush to his side as if he were her shield. Meredith simply leaned into him, her innate desire to proclaim that she was fine faltering in the face of his mother and the smothering weight of her own renewed exhaustion. She let him field the questions and congratulations, barely even listening to what was being said until the flash of a camera suddenly went off in front of her face, jarring her from her daze.

"What the hell?" she snapped, bypassing all other reactions, and heading straight for irritated. She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes as spots swam in bright blurs before her, slowly fading away to leave her blinking angrily at George. He smiled apologetically from behind a camera.

"Sorry," he muttered, lowering the camera. "And congratulations," he added with a genuine smile--his eyes warm and kind--killing Meredith's sharp retort before it even reached her tongue.

"Thanks," she muttered. She turned from him, sullenly regarding the crowd of people, the constant chattering voices, unable to forget the way Jacqueline had looked at her. She lost track of how long she stood at Derek's side, saying little and leaning hard against him, desperately wishing the party could just be over already. One hand braced her lower back as if to ward off the stress and the pain that seemed to follow it in waves, her head slumping dejectedly against Derek's shoulder. A wan smile flickered across her face, but that was all, her mind was too caught up in worrying about the storm that was sure to come now that Jacqueline knew. She was caught up in the fantasy of simply pushing past the crowd of people and out into the unadulterated silence of the night--barely tuned into the voices around her--when Meredith suddenly found herself being led across the room.

"What…?" she began uncertainly, grudgingly shaking herself free from her thoughts and turning to face Izzie, who was tugging eagerly on her arm.

"Presents," explained the blonde simply before moving away, directing the guests to sit in orderly little rows around a single, oversized armchair.

"Oh god," muttered Meredith as she caught sight of the chair in question. Somehow, she had missed it during the first half of the party, or…it was some horrendous creation Izzie had kept out of sight until then, either way…she stopped short, just staring at the thing. The entire chair was nearly lost beneath a sea of wrapping paper and streamers, done up to resemble a giant present itself. "Don't tell me I have to sit in that thing," she hissed in an undertone, looking desperately at Derek.

He cringed, shaking his head. "We could still make a break for it," he whispered, shooting a furtive glance in the direction of the front door. Meredith frowned, letting out a resigned burst of laughter. People were already holding onto their gifts, watching her expectantly, eager for her reactions to the parade of tiny clothes and baby's toys that was just waiting to start.

"Right…" Her voice was a weary sigh, and she kept a tight grip on Derek's hand, dragging him with her into the fray.

Still, the soft support of the chair beneath her was a relief after standing for so long, and the presents were amusing at first. Derek sat on the armrest of the chair, apparently entertaining himself by leaning forward now and then to whisper the most inappropriate things he could think of straight into her ear. It kept her laughing as she unwrapped present after present. But eventually, the constant barrage of little pajamas and tops and itty bitty pink socks grew tiresome. She was running out of things to say, of ways to pretend that she was excited about the washcloths and the mobile and the baby bathtub, that she cared about all the toys. Her body felt like a single, dense knot of misery, and Meredith just wanted it all to stop. Still, the pile was far from dwindling, and so she kept unwrapping and unwrapping and unwrapping. She only froze once or twice, when her eyes locked with Jacqueline's. For once, Derek's mother wasn't saying anything bitter. She wasn't saying anything at all. She simply sat there amidst the other guests, straight and stiff as a rod, her eyes following Meredith's every move with the watchfulness of a hawk. She radiated a quiet disapproval that went unnoticed by most--the wrapping paper and the constant chattering of the guests serving as a sort of smoke screen--but Meredith felt it. She could ignore it for the most part, avoid Jacqueline's eyes, but even then it was still there, still wearing her down mercilessly until she felt paper thin. And, the few times their eyes did lock, it took every last ounce of her dwindling strength to simply sit still--to keep from bursting into tears, or screaming, or both.

Jacqueline was hardly aware of her effect on Meredith, on her son's fiancée… She frowned at the thought, her mind still trying to accept the fact that the miserable, unsmiling girl seated in front of her was apparently marrying Derek. She watched her with a horrified sort of curiosity, Cristina's earlier anger and her own common sense keeping her from making a scene in front of the hundred or so guests. But, even in her stiff silence, Jacqueline's mind was raging at her. She could handle Meredith as the bland, highly inappropriate, altogether too young girlfriend of her son. She could. She might not like it, but she was prepared to handle that relationship for as long as it lasted. Which, she had to admit, she'd thought wouldn't be that long, despite the child.

But, as his fiancée? His…wife?

She glanced back at Meredith--taking in her listless eyes and the pained smile that was more of a grimace than anything else--and found herself wondering, yet again, if her son had lost his mind. She sighed and shook her head, amusing herself with the fact that at least Derek no longer believed in marriage as an eternal commitment. The end of his first marriage was proof enough of that.

-----

Eventually, the party started to wind to an end. Guests left, uttering final rounds of congratulations as they made their way out the door. A strange quiet took over the house--a silence that felt muffled and somehow more pronounced than normal--as if the sudden absence of a hundred voices left behind an overpowering lack of sound--something oddly loud in its own way. Meredith sat slumped in a chair as her friends moved back and forth around her. Derek, Alex and George had all disappeared, carting some of the larger presents up the stairs to the nursery. Izzie and Cristina shuffled back and forth between the kitchen and the front room, picking up the dozens of plastic cups and paper plates, gathering the shredded wrapping paper into huge garbage bags, and talking quietly to each other about a tricuspid valve replacement they'd both scrubbed in on the day before. Meredith had tried to get up and help them once, but had instantly been admonished, and told to sit back down. Izzie had frowned and fussed, telling her that she looked much too tired, and that this was her party, so she should put her feet up and rest. And so, she had returned reluctantly to her seat, and sat there plucking idly at a long, perfectly coiled strand of pink ribbon--letting the delicate curls twine around her fingers--only half-listening to their conversation. Nancy and Jacqueline sat beside her. The older woman had claimed they were waiting for a taxi, but Meredith couldn't help but think she was really waiting for Derek to come back downstairs so that she could pounce on him. Question him about the suddenly impending marriage that loomed like the unmentioned elephant in the room.

Meredith sighed and cast a cautious glance at the two women. Nancy had offered her a stunned, but seemingly heartfelt, congratulations on her engagement, but Jacqueline hadn't said a single word. She just sat there--brooding and angry--her mood a storm cloud hanging darkly around her. The silence was unnerving, but, while Meredith could handle speaking to Nancy now, she lost even that ability with Derek's mother sitting like a statue between them. And so she just sank deeper into the warm folds of the chair, staring down at her lap again as the seconds seemed to slow into something long and aching. As she shifted in her seat, frowning at the pain that still twinged through her on occasion--aftershocks from the stress of the party, running their way from her feet all the way up to the throbbing nape of her neck--Jacqueline looked up, and cleared her throat.

"Let's see the ring."

Her voice rang out distinctly, causing Meredith's head to jerk upwards in response, taken aback by the statement. "...What?" she stammered.

"The ring," repeated Jacqueline, stretching out her hand. "Let's see it."

Nancy stiffened noticeably in her seat, and Meredith swore she felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck bristle like the fur of some cornered animal. She tried to smile, swallowing the bitterness and answering dully, "I don't have one yet." And you know it, you miserable bitch, she thought, biting down hard on her lip to keep the words from slipping out.

"Oh," said Jacqueline coolly, arching her eyebrows high in a perfect expression of astonishment. "You don't say..." Nancy shot her mother a warning look, and got to her feet, bending down to gather a stack of crumb-filled paper plates in her hand.

"Mom--"

"Nancy, I was just curious," defended Jacqueline dismissively, giving a little wave of her hand. "I remember Derek got Addison such a lovely ring--with a huge diamond, wasn't it? Princess cut, right?" She let out a thin little trill of a laugh, adding, "Nearly weighed her hand down."

Meredith stiffened, staring down at her own bare hands. The words fell on her like boulders after everything else, crushing her with more weight than they were worth. She let out a shaky sigh, willing Derek to come back down the stairs already, for Izzie and Cristina to suddenly need her in the kitchen, anything other than having to sit there and listen to further proof that she wasn't Addison, and never would be.

"Mom, really. Stop it. Just leave her alone." Nancy's voice was sharp and exasperated, and Meredith glanced up in surprise, shocked to find herself being defended at all.

"You act like I'm attacking her," said Jacqueline, still indignant. Her voice had a flawless veneer of politeness spread over it, but beneath the words ran something dark and cold and maybe angry, pulsing with a snarled ugly mess of confusion and frustration. "I'm just trying to find out why she seems so unhappy," she continued lightly, turning to face Meredith. "What is it, dear? Were you expecting a big ring too?"

It was fake nice at best, something infinitely condescending that made Meredith's skin crawl and her blood feel as if it were suddenly boiling in her veins. She bit her lip, sucking in a deep, steadying breath that hissed angrily past her clenched teeth. She found herself missing the tense uncomfortable silence that had lingered previously. "I wasn't expecting anything," she said tersely, raising a hand to rub two knuckles hard against her aching temple.

"But you are happy now?" continued Jacqueline, unable to resist the urge to just keep pushing; simultaneously fascinated and annoyed by the young woman's apparent inability to smile, and still seething over her sudden engagement. "Now that Derek's agreed to marry you?"

Meredith shifted uncomfortably, her eyes narrowing. "I was happy before that too," she said, her voice short and snappish. She was about to fade once more into silence, and simply let Jacqueline's words fester in her mind, when she suddenly shook her head. She couldn't keep quiet. Something buried deep within her wouldn't allow it. She felt too frustrated and too sore to continue on trying to appease a woman who clearly hated her, and so she straightened up in her chair, her tone suddenly much harsher than anything Jacqueline had heard from her before. "And he didn't agree to marry me. I agreed to marry him. You got it backwards," she said, scraping together only the thinnest trappings of politeness to cover her anger. "And we're both incredibly happy, thank you."

"Really?" managed Jacqueline, her voice mingling with a stunned, humorless note of laughter. She frowned, taken aback by the sudden sign of life in front of her. Her eyes darkened, and--feeling unexpectedly cornered--she threw back the first thing she could think of. "Because I've never seen a woman look so miserable opening presents for her daughter in my entire life."

"Seriously?" spluttered Meredith loudly as something within her finally snapped, every last thin thread of patience fraying and breaking at once. She got to her feet--anger propelling her upward without her usual struggle--and turned to glare at Jacqueline, mindless of everything other than the cork shooting out of the bottle of her suppressed emotions. She sucked in a deep breath, barely even seeing Jacqueline through the blurry obscuring haze of her anger, her words finally breaching some internal dam to come pouring out in an ugly torrent.

"Now you don't like me because, what? I'm just not cheerful enough?" She shook her head violently, her voice already unsteady, holding the threat of tears in its pitch. "This is stopping now."

"What?" began Jacqueline, scooting to the edge of her seat, bristling defensively. She was halfway to protesting when the petite blonde held up a trembling hand, barreling on.

"Look," Meredith shrugged, and even that small motion was hard edged and erratic, "I get that Derek and I are complicated, and hard to understand, and that this all came out of nowhere for you. The divorce, and the surprise girlfriend," she gestured down at her stomach, "the baby, and now the whole marriage whatever. It's a lot. I get it. I've lived it. Trust me, I know that it's a lot. And I'm sorry. I really am. Derek should have told you. And," she laughed dryly, "I'm sorry I'm not smiley enough for you, or whatever the hell your latest problem with me is. But being pregnant? It sucks." She braced her lower back as she spoke as if in testament to her next words, her voice rising loudly as she asked, "Did you ever think that maybe I'm not smiling because, oh…I don't know, I'm in pain? Or because opening a hundred presents from people I barely know actually isn't fun for me? I don't like big parties, and I didn't want one. And I certainly didn't want you here the whole time trying to ruin this for us. But--" Meredith paused, sucking in a deep shaky breath. Her face was flushed with ugly streaks of red, her eyes glittering with tears. "But I am happy," she stammered, her voice low and shaky. She staggered slightly, reaching out to steady herself against the back of a chair as the room started swimming. Everything within her seemed to be suddenly trembling, and Meredith drew in another long rattling breath, holding herself together through the force of her will alone. "Derek and I," she continued tremulously, fingernails clutching at the fabric of the chair in a desperate struggle to keep her balance. Her teeth were digging painfully into her lower lip, and she let out a tortured gasp as something sharp stabbed right through her. But, in another second, the feeling passed, and the room stopped reeling quite so violently. She sniffled against the threat of tears, willing herself to speak. "We're happy," she said forcefully, her heart beating heavily against her chest, seeming to force its rhythm into her voice. "What we have makes us happy. It is not this cheap thing. Maybe we did start out kind of crazy. And maybe from the outside we don't look perfectly appropriate, or fit into your perfect box of a world. But that doesn't make what we have wrong, it doesn't make me some whore who seduced her boss and broke up his marriage, and if you can't understand that--"

Meredith trailed off abruptly as the room started to swim again. Her whole world was a bleary wash of red and pain, Jacqueline nothing more than some stunned immobile blur in front of her. She leaned forward, bowing down so that her forehead rested against the back of the chair she'd been leaning on, trying to stave off some of the pain and dizziness that simply seemed to ratchet up right along with her anger. Three deep breaths later, the room was deathly silent, and when Meredith finally straightened up, her own voice was quieter too. She swallowed, her throat dry and hoarse even as tears ran in thin streaks down the sides of her face. "I've tried to be nice to you for Derek's sake," she said stiffly, her hand moving on its own to rub futilely at the headache pervading every square inch of her skull. "I've tried, but you have done nothing other than insult me from the moment you showed up at my door. And…I can't do it any longer. I can't, so…" she sighed, her voice suddenly low and uncharacteristically commanding. "You have a choice. You are either done trying to hurt me, or you are leaving right now, and this-- this relationship or whatever, is over."

"You're, you're…throwing me out?" asked Jacqueline, quiet, stunned, not quite comprehending the sudden tirade that had poured out of the tiny, seemingly meek woman standing in front of her.

"Yes," said Meredith, filling her voice with a confidence she didn't feel. "If you can't…yes." She shifted her hands to her lower back, trying not to crumple into some pathetic weepy mess. Trying to simply keep standing as dizziness consumed her again in a wave, forcing her to jerk her hand from bracing her back to clutch at the chair in front of her.

"You can't just throw me out like that," stammered Jacqueline, fear rippling through her and blotting out everything other than the sudden threat. She shook her head, her eyes frantic and uncertain despite the disbelief that lingered in her voice. "What would Derek say?"

Meredith's head was bowed, but she looked up at that, blinking unsteadily at the other woman. "He would understand," she hissed, her voice low and broken. "He does understand." She swallowed hard, smothering her own fears and doubts to let the conversation of the night before slice unheralded straight through the present. "Derek, he-- He told me he would choose if I needed him to, and I am not having someone in my life who treats me the way you have. Certainly not in my daughter's life. I swear, she is not going to go through anything like what I--"

But Meredith trailed off abruptly, biting her lip as her back seized up in pain. She stood frozen for one long, horrible, grating second before her body relaxed again, plummeting her straight into another bout of dizziness that robbed her of her defenses. She clawed desperately at the chair, bracing herself not just to keep on her feet, but to keep speaking, to finish what she'd started. "I'm sorry," she whispered at last, finally meeting Jacqueline's eyes as tears started to stream uncontrollably down her face. "But if you can't get over whatever the hell your problem with me is, and try to accept that I love your son, then I need him to choose."

Silence fell with the force of a death blow; Jacqueline simply staring at her speechless, and Meredith leaning heavily against the chair in front of her, feeling as if she were floating and frozen and falling to pieces all at once.

A sound that could only be described as a catcall pierced the silence, and Meredith turned shakily, suddenly realizing that they weren't alone. Nancy stood immobile a few steps from the doorway, still clutching the stack of paper plates she'd gathered before the fight. Izzie and Cristina had wandered in from the kitchen, and Cristina was beaming at her, looking like it was all she could do to keep from clapping.

"About time," she said as Izzie looked down at her incredulously, hissing some sort of warning in an undertone. Cristina just shrugged, and glanced back at Meredith, adding, "Seriously, I was starting to wonder who you were, and what you'd done with Meredith."

Meredith could only blink, letting out some almost inaudible murmur, just a shadow of a reply. She wanted to laugh, to let Cristina's absurd, inappropriate, completely ridiculous comment free her from this horrible, lingering impasse. She wanted to forget that she had just given Derek's mother an ultimatum. Had given Derek one, really. She wanted to forget that Jacqueline still hadn't even bothered to reply. But she couldn't. The truth was something harsh and burning--seared into her mind's eye. And so she could only stand there on shaky legs, blinking helplessly as tears streamed down her face, the room sliding in and out of focus. Nobody seemed to know what to do or say. It was as if the whole world was frozen; everyone holding off even on breathing until a door slammed shut upstairs, and moments later, three pairs of feet came thudding down the stairs.

Derek stopped first, halting halfway down the staircase and forcing George and Alex to come to an abrupt stop behind him. But he paused only for a moment--the frozen room presenting itself to him like some sort of grotesque snapshot--before he started moving again. Meredith was crying; that was the only thought that had any sort of permanency to it. She was standing there, tears streaking down her face, and nobody was making a move to do anything. They all seemed made of stone. He snorted angrily as he hurried down the rest of the stairs, incensed, disbelieving, striding roughly past Izzie and Cristina to reach his fiancée. Her face was a blotchy pattern of bright red over ashen white, tears tracing long glimmering trails over her cheekbones as her lip trembled, teeth digging in hard enough to pierce the skin and draw a single drop of blood. He reached out, gathering her hands in his and squeezing them tightly.

"Meredith," he whispered, ignoring everyone other than her, speaking to her softly, gently. "What happened?"

"I--" she stammered, the familiar sound of Derek's voice freeing the tense hold on her throat. But even as she tried to speak, she started to cry; her body suddenly wracked with the sobs she'd previously been able to hold in. "I'm sorry," she moaned, shaking her head frantically as she looked up at him. "I didn't mean…I just…" She trailed off, leaning forward to rest her head against his chest to hide her face, simultaneously horrified and unconcerned by the fact that all of her friends were standing there watching her fall apart.

Derek frowned and pulled her closer, feeling her trembling against him. Something angry and protective coursed through his veins, and he glared at the assembled crowd over the top of her head. "Anyone want to tell me what the hell's going on?" he demanded.

"It's nothing," stammered Jacqueline, despite the sudden fear churning deep in the pit of her stomach. She shook her head and laughed, the sound pure nerves. "It's ridiculous, really," she continued. "She's saying she wants you choose…or some such nonsense. That you promised you'd choose, which is just ridiculous because--" She trailed off--digging her nails deep into the palms of her hands--watching in quiet horror as her son's expression contorted from one of frustration to pure disgust as he stared at her, and, in a split second, morphed into something just shy of reverent as he turned back to Meredith.

"Mer," he coaxed, running his hands up and down the length of her arms as she staggered slightly and fell against him.

She looked up, her eyes wide with doubt and uncertainty. "I'm sorry," she repeated, starting to cry all over again. "I didn't… I didn't mean to make this into a big thing." She hiccupped, and shook her head frantically, still flirting with dizziness and the thought of crumpling to the floor in a heap. "I just, I just couldn't, Derek. I couldn't. She's so…" Meredith shrugged helplessly, "I'm sorry." Her voice descended into an incoherent stream of apologies punctuated by harsh ugly-sounding sobs.

"See? This is ridiculous," said Jacqueline, after spending a long, tortured minute watching Derek ignore her completely to soothe Meredith. Her voice shaky and unconvincing, speaking out of fear and a desperate need for her son to agree with her. He had been in the process of drying Meredith's tears, but, at the sound of his mother's voice, his hand froze in midair. "I didn't do--"

He nearly snarled as he turned towards her, his eyes harsh and incredulous. "Then why is she crying?" he demanded.

"Derek, I don't know, she just started. She--"

"No," he said, letting go of Meredith, and crossing over to where his mother stood in two long strides. "Don't act like you don't know why. The woman I love is crying because of what you said to her. Because of how you've treated her since the moment you met her." He ran a hand through his hair, his voice rising until he was no longer speaking, but shouting at her. "What, mom? You think I'm just going to be okay with that? I feel like I don't even know you anymore! Meredith and I are having a child. She's going to be my wife. If she wants me to choose--"

"Derek--"

"No," he repeated, his voice a harsh angry bark. "I will always choose her. Always. The one time I didn't, I made the biggest mistake of my life. One that I am never making again."

Jacqueline just stared at her son, at a loss for words, and, in the thick leaden silence that followed, Meredith staggered forward, gasping in pain. The floor and ceiling were once again doing flip-flops with each other, sending her world reeling even as her head throbbed with a dull ache and something piercing shot through her side. She had to lay down. It wasn't a question anymore in her mind. She had to lay down or risk something awful happening. She turned blindly towards where she thought Derek was, but he already had a hold of her arm. His heart was thudding violently against his chest as he took in the hand clutching her belly, praying desperately that she wasn't about to crumple to the floor in a repeat of the most terrifying moment of his entire life.

She swayed slightly, but didn't fall. Instead, she turned towards him, her eyes still watery. "I--" she tried, her voice small and shaky. "I think I should lay down."

"Okay," he agreed instantly, filling with relief to see her straighten up instead of double over in pain. But she stumbled again, pressing a hand to her head, and Derek bent down, sweeping her up into his arms.

"Derek," she murmured, but he just shushed her, not about to set her back down. And so Meredith twined her arms around his neck, some of the dizziness subsiding as she let her head slump against his shoulder.

He carried her wordlessly towards the stairs, stopping at the foot to turn and face his mother. "You need to leave," he said simply.

Jacqueline just blinked. "What?"

"Meredith wants you gone," he stated, tilting his head towards the tiny woman cradled in his arms. She offered no words to the contrary--her face buried against his chest, tears staining his shirt. Jacqueline opened her mouth to reply, but Derek shook his head. "Go." And with that, he turned his back on his mother, carrying Meredith up the stairs and out of sight.

-----

So yes, Meredith finally said something. She started off happy and doing really quite wonderfully, still caught up in her happy little bubble of just getting engaged. But, once everyone at the party hears, things start falling apart for her. She gets more than a little bit stressed out by the whole thing, and Jacqueline is completely blown away at the idea of Derek and Meredith getting married, especially since she'd just been trying to convince herself that they were nothing more than a fling. So there's a lot of ugly feelings flying around, and Meredith had a boatload of suppressed emotions about the whole thing, and eventually…she just snaps. And yeah, big fight. Way too big of a fight for her at the moment. All of the stress had been overwhelming her the whole day and making her feel crappy. And, after pretty much getting hysterical over Derek's mom, she feels like she's falling apart. However, this time she doesn't wait until she gets to the point where she actually collapses on the floor. She says she needs to lay down, so…Derek takes her upstairs, leaving a huge rift between him and his mother.

And yeah, that's about it. The party's over. I'd like to promise a speedier update next chapter, but…these next two weeks are the last two of the semesters. I have a giant pile of final projects and exams breathing down the back of my neck, which I'll have to deal with. So, I'm sorry ahead of time if it takes a bit to get the next update up. As soon as the semester's over though, I should be able to update much, much faster than I am at the moment. And yay, we're nearing the end! I'm sorry this story is taking so long to finish! It's so nice and fun for me though (especially after the latest episode) to have Mer/Der at a place where their problems are an outside thing instead of each other. Anyway, thanks for reading!