Ok...wow. First of all, insert long, looooong apology on my part for this update being so late. It's been a combination of life in the real world catching up with me, a lack of wanting to end this story...as I've adored writing this, and some serious, serious writer's block as to how to actually end the damn thing! But it's finally been done. Hurray! That is, if any of you are still around to read this. If you are? Thank you so much! You deserve a medal for perservance and putting up with my story through to its end. Anyway, as promised, this chapter is entirely Meredith and Derek. And it's also entirely fluff...the icing on the cake, the happy ending. All that good stuff. Hopefully, it's not the sort of icing that gives you a stomache, but just the good sweet kind...but yeah. Enough of that. Time for the story!
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Meredith
I can't remember the last time I felt this nervous walking down the stairs to meet a date. Actually, that's a lie. I can remember. It's just that it was a hell of a long time ago. It was nearly seventeen years ago - when I was twelve. I was twelve, and tripping all over my dress, as I walked down the stairs to meet my date on my way to my first school dance. Christopher Evans…that was his name. I didn't go to many of those…twelve years old…that'd be two years before I decided that school dances were pathetically lame, and discovered that pink hair dye attracted boys far more interesting then Christopher Evans. Either way, the butterflies I felt in my stomach that night have finally met their match.
I call a quick "I'll be right down," in the direction of the stairwell as I fix my dress one last time (I feel ridiculously fancy in this thing.) I don't know why I'm so nervous. It's just Derek. I'm never nervous around him. It's the opposite, he calms me down. Maybe it's the fact that I can hear George and Izzie giggling together downstairs. I don't know. That shouldn't bother me. I should be glad to finally hear Izzie laughing again. Maybe (in typical me fashion) I'm trying to find a way to mess up what's finally turned into a good thing. Seriously, a really good thing. I mean, Derek and I are both finally free. It doesn't get better then that.
Okay…enough being stupid. I'm going down. Just please, don't let me trip on my dress this time.
"Hey," I gasp. I nearly do stumble as I catch sight of Derek standing in the doorway. I'm not sure how I'm managing to speak because seriously, he looks amazing. McDreamy, even. (I knew we came up with the nickname for a reason.) His hair is perfect, yet kinda messy, falling forward towards his eyes. And he's just leaning against the doorframe, his lips half parted in a smile, and his eyes somehow managing to stare right through me. I'm pretty sure Izzie and George are still giggling and making faces at us, but I can't hear them. I don't know how he does it, but Derek consistently manages to make me forget everything but him. The rest of the world just sort of fades away, and the only thing to remain in focus? Is him. It's always him.
Seriously. It's. Always. Him. Clearly, I have problems. Or an obsession. Or something. Maybe it's just the way the whole head-over-heels in love thing works. Yeah…that sounds good. Head-over-heels in love. I'll be going with that.
"Hey," Derek echoes, pushing himself away from the wall and smiling at me. "You look…" he pauses, shaking his head, his smile growing even wider. "Wow," he mutters at last, sounding almost breathless. "You look beautiful." His gaze drifts slowly downward from my eyes, pausing to linger over my mouth. Instinctively, my tongue darts out, running along my lips, moistening them. Derek sort of sighs this soft low noise as he steps towards me…and damn, that was fast. Seriously, almost a record of sorts because his expression is already making a noticeable switch from Happy Derek to Horny Derek. At least, it's noticeable to me. Hopefully, George and Izzie haven't noticed the way we're staring at each other yet. Not that I mind the we-need-to-get-rid-of-your-dress-immediately look that he's giving me at all.
It's just that…if we forsake dinner completely, and just head straight up to my bedroom? Well, George and Izzie will make sure that, within minutes, Cristina knows. And Alex knows. And probably Callie. Hell, Joe will probably know. Basically, the whole hospital would know, and they would make sure I never live it down. Especially Cristina. She already thinks I have no self control. Besides, tonight is supposed to be our first real date as a real free couple with no strings attached. That means no sex, at least not until we go on the actual date portion. (After that? I'm not making any promises.)
"Thanks," I manage to say at last, grinning and shaking my head. "Ready to go?" I ask, soundling a little too eager. I'm pretty sure Cristina would consider my tone dangerously close to perky, very Izzie-at-Christmas. Without giving him a chance to answer, I push Derek before me out the door, turning around to make a face at Izzie and George before I slam it shut.
"What was all that?" asks Derek as I turn around again to face him.
"Oh you know…roommates…" I say, rolling my eyes and shrugging.
"Roommates?" I nod my head, but Derek just raises his eyebrows, studying my face. "You're nervous," he declares after a moment, sounding pretty much delighted by the idea. (For the record, I'm not nervous. Not at all. I'm completely the opposite of nervous…calm, even.)
"Am not," I protest, folding my arms over my chest and shaking my head. Derek just keeps staring at me expectantly, a smug little smirk playing across his face. "I'm not," I splutter again. "It's just, you were giving me the look!"
"What look?" he asks, sounding confused. "When?"
"Our look, in the house."
Derek raises his eyebrows, doing his best to look innocent. "I was looking at you because you're beautiful," he protests, grinning at me.
"No," I say, shaking my head again as he loops an arm around my waist and pulls me towards him. "You were giving me the sex look, and you know it," I insist, my voice coming out in a low hiss.
"Sex?" echoes Derek immediately, his face splitting into a grin and his mouth inching steadily towards mine. I start to answer, but the sound gets completely lost in the meeting of our lips. My fingers tangle in his hair and he pulls me even closer, his hands sliding easily down the sleek fabric of the dress.
"Derek," I mumble at last, after what feels like only a few seconds, but in reality is probably much longer. He just raises an eyebrow, tilting his head and nudging mine backward slightly. "Seriously!" I gasp, laughing and slipping out of his grasp. "Don't we have a date to be going on sometime tonight?"
After a lot more protesting in the form of unexpected breathless kisses and Derek trying to argue that none of the kissing was his fault, because I'd apparently asked for sex by simply mentioning the word, we finally made it into the car. I know. It makes no sense. But Derek swears that according to some unwritten guy rulebook, it's true. Unwritten guy rule book…right. I'm dating a madman. Seriously.
Still, I don't really mind. It's the fun arguing. The good, playful, I'd like to rip your clothes off now, but I can't, so we're going to do this instead type of arguing. And that? It's a whole world away from the "You don't get to call me a whore" type of arguing. And it's a lot more enjoyable too.
"Why are you covering my eyes?" I ask as we walk into the front lobby of what I can only describe as a seriously fancy restaurant, and Derek places a warm hand over my eyes. I twist around to look at him, but he just grins and shushes me, spinning me back towards the dark shielding press of his palm against my eyelids.
"It's a surprise," he whispers in my ear, his voice dipping low and husky and sending a sudden course of shivers down my spine.
"What's a surprise?" I protest, giggling as his other hand finds my waist and guides me forward. "I already know where we are. I saw the restaurant when we walked in."
He just murmurs a low sound of agreement. "Mmhmm…"
"Seriously," I continue, trying to come up with the words that had been scrawled in gold across the clear glass doors. "Bistroe Something-fancy name?" I manage at last, actually earning a snort of laughter from Derek. "Hey, stop laughing. I always ditched language in high school!" I say, giggling into his hand as he guides me through the restaurant. I'd normally feel stupid wandering blindfolded by my boyfriend's hand through what I can only assume is a room full of people eating their meals. But, my boyfriend is Derek. So somehow…I just don't.
He pauses, and mumbles something to someone who I'm assuming is a waiter. The reply is a polite crisp, "Yes sir, straight up the stairs to your left."
"Stairs?" I echo weakly as Derek thanks the waiter.
"You're cute," he states blithely, leaning towards me again, and I can hear the smile in his words even though I can't see his face.
"Stairs Derek," I repeat.
"Yeah. Stairs."
"Seriously Derek? Stairs? As in you and me, going upstairs?"
"Mmhmm," he murmurs again, still steering me blindly across the room. "You've met them before Mer. Lots of successive, raised steps."
"Derek, I know what stairs are," I snap, shaking my head. "It's just, in case you haven't noticed, I'm wearing three inch heels. I'm not a tall shoe person, but for some reason, I'm wearing tall shoes tonight. And since you're not letting me see anything, we either have to take off my shoes, or you have to let me see, or…"
"Promise you'll keep your eyes closed?" he interrupts.
"Okay…sure. Whatever. I'm not peeking. But still…" Before I can finish my sentence, Derek takes his hand away from my eyes and I'm swept up off my feet and into his arms. "Derek!" I say, the sound coming out somewhere halfway between laughter and a gasp of surprise.
"Not peeking?" he asks.
"Not peeking," I murmur, keeping my eyes shut and turning my face towards his chest. Instantly we start moving upward, slowly, in a great spiral circle. "Derek?" I ask quietly after we've taken a few steps.
"Mer?"
"Are there people in this restaurant?"
"People?" he asks.
"You know…people down there, eating their dinners, enjoying a night out, wondering what the hell you're doing…you know, just people."
"Ah yeah," he says slowly and I can tell he's grinning. "Yeah, there might be a few of those."
"Right…" I should mind. At the very least, the sensible doctor part of me should mind. But even it doesn't give a damn. Because I've got on this fancy dress and ridiculous shoes I'll probably never wear again, and I'm in Derek's arms with no clue where I'm going, and somehow this all feels so much like a fairytale that I can't help but giggle, and cling tighter and not care at all.
Eventually, the feeling of continually ascending stops. We're upstairs, wherever that is. The air feels different up here - warmer, fresher, and softer somehow. The music from downstairs has faded away into the vaguest whisper of a melody and the murmur of conversations has stopped completely. Instead…I think I hear the sound of water. It's a deep gentle sound like the roll and crash and lapping spray of waves.
"Derek?" I begin, but he shakes his head, his chin brushing against the crown of my head.
"Shhh Mer," he says gently, still carrying me forward. "Wait." A moment later there's the sound of a chair scraping backwards, and he lowers me down into what has to be the world's softest chair. The fabric beneath my fingers feels delicate and expensive. Actually, it feels incredibly expensive, as in I'm going to open my eyes and find myself seated at a table set entirely in crystal with fifteen forks to choose from. That kind of expensive.
And if that happens? I'll be screwed. Seriously. Screwed. Lusty interns don't do fifteen fork dinners. At least, I didn't think we had to. Oh well…it'll just be one more reminder as to how completely I fall short of Addison.
"Meredith?" asks Derek, his hands once again over my eyes.
"Yes?" Somehow I manage to bite back the urge to ask him if I'm sitting in front of a utensil orgy. (Look who's displaying self control now Cristina!)
Derek takes what sounds like a shakey breath, and as his hands drop away from my eyes to rest on my shoulders, I feel a warm breeze blow across my face, stirring my hair. "Open your eyes," he says at last. And I do. Hesitantly.
But the hesitancy? Totally not necessary. Because as I open my eyes, it's not to fifteen forks. It's not to any sort of table setting Addison could dream up. Because when I open my eyes, it's just so completely us.
It's…ferryboats.
I think I gasp because we're alone on this balcony with the doors thrown wide open, and somehow we're seated far out over the water. I was right about the sound of the waves, and the sound grows clearer and more familiar as my eyes match it with the slow undulating motions of the dark water below us. On the balcony, everything is white with candlelight, and lilies (which I've always preferred to roses) are strewn everywhere with a sort of perfectly reckless precision that I thought was only possible in nature. And I think I've got tears in my eyes because the sky looks sort of blurry, but even still I can make out the first dots of starlight and the fading reds and golds of the sunset. The colors echo themselves in these shimmering patches across the water, and out there, in the middle of it all, are the ferryboats. They're these great looming shapes, dark except for the little glowing lights of the windows onboard, and they're moving slowly across the water. And right now, there's something eerie and majestic about them, that I never fully noticed before.
"Meredith?" says Derek again, moving around to sit beside me at the table. I nod my head and move my lips to answer him, but no sound comes out. Because seriously? I'm supposed to speak right now? That's not exactly possible because…ferryboats. He got me a first date with candles and flowers and romance and ferryboats. I'm going to need a moment here. "Mer?" he repeats, his hand grasping mine, and I finally notice the note of anxiety in his voice. I nod again and turn to look at him.
"Yeah?" I manage at last, brushing away a stray tear.
"Is it…" Derek begins hesitantly. "Do you like…is it okay?" Right now, staring at the man I love, there's something different about him. He isn't Derek Shephered MD, the competent, renowned neurosurgeon. He's just Derek. The guy that sings rather badly in the shower and has questionable taste in breakfast cereals. And the way he's staring at me isn't with the confidence of the doctor who always has the right answers. It's something far more nervous. Something vulnerable even.
"Yes," I whisper, my face splitting impulsively into a grin. "Yes…it's…perfect. It's ferryboats Derek!" I declare, spreading my arms out wide. I feel like I'm trying to drink in everything at once, but there's too much, and it's leaving me giddy and deliriously happy.
"You like it," he says, his mouth lifting into a matching grin.
"Yes. I love it. Seriously…it's perfect." And it is perfect.
"Good. I want you to have perfect Meredith," Derek replies, his voice growing suddenly quiet. "You deserve perfect…you deserve…so much better than I've given you in the past…" There's a shudder to his words as he speaks, and the vulnerability from moments before comes surging back with a strength that makes me breathless. Because really, when you think about it, the fact that Derek puts me out on this brink and turns me into this highly breakable person is pretty much common knowledge. He could destroy me if he wanted to. Destroy. Me. Easily. He almost did before.
But me destroy Derek Shepherd? The Derek Shepherd? Before now, I didn't quite think it was possible. But right now, the fact that I can is crystal freaking clear. It's written in his face and in his eyes. It's written everywhere, and I don't know whether I should be comforted by the fact that we're equally breakable or be terrified by what all this would mean if we ever went wrong again.
Our fingers intertwine almost desperately, and I think it's a little bit of both.
"This time," I begin, and my voice is a whisper. "This time things are going to be better. Things are going to be less…" I let my voice trail off, not quite sure how to sum up last time.
"Less fucked up?" suggests Derek after a moment, with a brief hint of his usual grin.
"Yes," I agree, and I'm laughing despite the seriousness of the moment because…we were. Fucked up, that is. There wasn't a single thing that was "right" about us the first time around, except for maybe that feeling…it's almost indescribable, but it seems to have stuck around. It's the way I get when we stare at each other, and I know in my gut or my heart or whatever, that I could never want anyone like this again. I could never want someone else as completely as I want Derek. "Please…" I say quietly once our laughter has faded away. "I want us to work this time. I just…I need us to…"
"It has to work Mer," says Derek as I let my words once more trail off into silence. "It has to last." I'm staring at the clean white folds of the tablecloth, but I can feel Derek's eyes trained on me. Somehow that pulls my gaze upward until we're staring, eyes locked, deep into each other. We've never talked quite like this before. I mean, we've talked and we've argued and we've said all sorts of things. But something about this feels…raw, in a way that's entirely new. "You're the end for me," he continues, his voice low and earnest, and somehow completely solemn. "Meredith…nobody can come after you."
I nod my head, once again unable to speak. I can feel the tears running down my face and see them echoed in the corners of Derek's eyes. This is hardly a first date conversation, but seriously…trying to pass this off as a first date would only be fooling ourselves.
"I love you," I say at last, and my voice finally grows stronger then a whisper.
His reply is both instant and urgent. "I love you too."
Our bodies move in unison, leaning forward until our lips meet. And we're kissing - soft and slow, and then deeper, until we've each got a hand thoroughly tangled in the other's hair. Derek's holding my face close to his and I'm leaning into him, my other hand pressed close against his chest. It's perfect, moonlight over the water, candlelit, ferryboat kissing. But the thing is, even that falls short of describing what we're doing. I don't think I ever want to pull away, because this kiss? It's so much more then a kiss.
It's a promise not to break each other.
Derek
Her lips are warm and earnest against mine, a sharp contrast to the cool wetness of her tears staining my cheeks. I'd pull away and beg her not to cry if I didn't understand so completely why the tears are there. I think I've even got matching tears falling from my own eyes. This wasn't what I'd expected when I had picked her up earlier tonight. As I suffered through O'Malley's rather stern greeting as he let me in, and Izzie's continual insistance on referring to me only as McDreamy every time she called up to Meredith to hurry, well…I just, I couldn't have imagined this. At her house, there was so much giggling surrounding me, and Meredith was switching back and forth with lightening speed between shaking her head and looking up at me with something wicked hidden in the depths of her green eyes. The evening started off with that fire-hot buzz…like the one that comes from drinking just slightly too much alcohol, and it was impossible for me to feel anything but happy and excited.
Only now…now, I can't even put what I'm feeling into words. I'm happy, but it's not a simple kind of happy. It's actually a hellishly overwhelming sort of happiness that would leave me somewhat scared and confused were it not for the reassurance of Meredith's lips on mine. The reassurance that she understands exactly where I'm coming from.
Finally we both pull away. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair has been ruffled so much that I know if she could see it, she would purse her lips together and instinctively reach up to smooth it. But I love it just like it is. With all the candlelight, it looks like she's surrounded by a golden halo. "So…" she breathes softly, almost selfconsciously, tracing the swollen curve of her lip with a fingertip.
"So," I echo, nodding my head.
"Not exactly a first date," Meredith says in a rush. She reaches out to fidget with the napkin, her eyes shining and her cheeks starting to flush even further. "I mean…not that this isn't a good date. It is. It's a great date. I just, well…we just said a lot of…stuff. Big stuff. I don't usually, we don't usually, say those kind of things. At least, not like that. Not…"
I nod again, smiling at her. We don't usually say the big things. Not to each other, sanely and at the same time. But I like the big things. More big things I say. Still, she's rambling, and I can tell she desperately needs a minute to breathe. "Meredith," I say, catching her hands in mine, and saving the napkin from further knotting.
"Yeah?" She looks up, her lips red and parted and her eyes questioning. I shrug, completely losing my train of though. I'd been meaning to say something helpful, something intelligent…something to calm her down…only I can't. Because, well…fuck. You only have to look at her to understand.
"You're beautiful," I say, the words just falling from my mouth. And she is. She's all green eyed and messy-haired, her tiny hands curling smoothly around my wrist, the slender pale curve of her right leg somehow finding its way across my lap. Her expression hints at this glorious smile for a single second before quickly curving into a frown.
"Derek," she says dismissively, rolling her eyes. "Seriously."
"Seriously," I agree, grinning and wiggling my eyebrows at her. And even though it wasn't the fullblown, eloquent reassurance I'd hoped to give her…it seems to have worked. Because she's giggling again and shaking her head, and somehow, in between rounds of smirking back and forth at each other, we feel our way back to normal. It's safe and comfortable, and while it's not currently soul-shattering, it's still completely us. And most of all, it means we finally get a chance to look down and read the menu.
I don't really remember speaking to the waiter, or even how the food we ordered tasted. I'm sure it was good. I've been here before, many months ago, when Richard took me on a welcome to Seattle dinner. I was miserable that night, thinking about my wreck of a life back in New York, and trying to avoid Richard's continuous stream of questions about Addison. The only thing worth noticing, the only thing that had cheered me up at all, had been the food. To put it simply, it was amazing. I'd been planning to take Meredith here before, back when we'd first started dating. Only…we never quite made it to that dinner. Secret wives have a way of making relationships fall apart in a way I'd never even managed to consider as being possible. Not that I can blame anyone but myself for that, but still…I'd never gotten to take Mer here.
Turns out though…the food isn't really worth noticing. At least, not when I'm sitting next to Meredith. The flavors blend together, growing muted in the presence of her smile. They're just inconsequential details when the woman I love is finally, completely, mine. Still, as we leave the restaurant, Meredith slips into the crook of my arm, murmuring something soft and warm that I think translates into praise for the restaurant.
"I'm glad you liked it," I say, turning slightly to kiss the top of her head.
"Mmhmm…" she murmurs, sounding sleepy. "I did." She folds herself deeper into my arms. Neither of us says a word, but our footsteps don't head towards my parked car waiting in front of the restaurant. Instead we turn, shuffling and clacking in unison down the slow slope of the sidewalk. The air grows cooler and the sound of the waves grows louder as the shadowy form of the dock comes into view. "Ferryboats," she breathes, staring out over the water as the corner of her mouth lifts into a smile.
"Yeah, I know. Twice in one night." I grin at her, shaking my head. "Sorry. I'm not a very creative boyfriend."
"Right," she snorts, smirking at me. "It's okay…I heard you have a thing for them."
"Yes, I do," I agree as we weave our way through the ticket booth. "It's a very intense thing." Meredith just raises an eyebrow, still smirking at me. "Some might say it's passionate," I continue. "Epic, even."
"Epic?" she echoes, leaning against the railing and looking up at me.
"Yes, epic."
"Hmm…" Meredith says, turning back around to lean out over the inky black water. "Good thing you're going to get your fix tonight then." She glances over her shoulder as she speaks, and her voice is light, even innocent. Only her eyes are anything but, and before I have time to give a damn about any of the other passengers, we're pressed together and kissing again. We don't stop until we feel the slow lurch of the boat pulling away from the dock followed by the continuous sensation of moving over water. Meredith steps away before sighing, and settling once more into my arms. It's completely dark out now, every trace of daylight having vanished into the west. Her blonde hair is pale in the moonlight, and the wind whips it wildly about, filling the air with the scent of lavender.
Neither of us speaks as we move far out across the water. Right now…there isn't anything to say. Because right now, everything is perfect. It's just us. Us, the low lull of water, and the wild whispering of the wind. Even the conversations of the other passengers are fading away into something entirely forgetful. Everything fades away in front of us. I think I'm in danger of forgetting the world.
Or it could just be that Meredith's become my world, and there's no longer anything else that matters.
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A/N - And that's it. The end. Meredith and Derek are happy and in love, and have realized that they're the end for each other. I know it's not a wedding or a proposal...it's a first date, but as Meredith says...it's not really a first date. It's them finally understanding exactly what the other one wants and feels, and in the end, coming to rest at the exact same spot. Plus...it's ferryboats. Hee... Ever since I started this story, I knew I wanted it to end on a ferryboat.
As for this story? I've loved writing it. I was a bit hesitant about trying the first person POV myself, but I've ended up adoring this writing style. So yeah...it was a lot of fun. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it too. And a huge, heartfelt thank you to everyone who took the time to read this piece and review it. It's totally inspiring to read your comments, just amazing. The story wouldn't be here without you guys!
As for future stories? Well...I've got two intense weeks of finals coming up...but then...a glorious month of winter vacation. So hopefully, I'll be able to get a lot of writing done and at least a story up over break. As for which story it will be, I'm not sure yet. I was planning a sequal to And It All Falls Apart, but...that was going to include lots of Mark Sloane. And currently...I'm not a Mark fan. Not at all. I've a host of issues with the Sloane. So yeah...I may have to revise that story, or I may just put it on hold and write something new. I'm not sure...it'll be a surprise! Hee.
Anyway, that's it. Thanks for sticking with this story. So much love to you guys. The end!
