Okay, I am feeling generous, and the other chapter was kind of short, so here you go! Two chapters in one day! Meredith and Derek are presently friends starting on their second day of touring. Or what I like to call, DAY TWO. All places depicted in said update are real. I can provide links to pictures if anyone is interested. Enjoy!
Why did he tell her he had a girlfriend? It was the perfect moment to come clean and get everything out in the open and he just…couldn't. No, it was more like he had heard those words uttered from her mouth, and still in a daze from those kisses, had just automatically responded in kind. Girlfriend/fiancé: same thing, right? No it wasn't, and he knew it. How was he supposed to tell her? Hm…by the way…my girlfriend is really my fiancée who incidentally I am marrying this Sunday. Oh yes, I knew this when I kissed you. And why did I do that? Because the thought had completely flew out of my head when I pressed my lips to yours? Yeah, that would go over real well.
But they were friends now. Friends. He liked that. He could be friends. They could be friends. She had a boyfriend and he had a fiancé, but that was cool. Sometimes things just didn't work out that way. If he was honest with himself, he would say that he knew that if he told her he had a fiancé she would bolt right out of his life. And right now he honestly really needed a friend. A friend that understood what he was going through.
He couldn't remember the last time he had had such a fun time just hanging out with someone. The entire day had just been fun. The conversation had flowed and dipped and wandered around, but never faltered or became awkward. It was just so easy being with her. She didn't make any demands on him, she wasn't asking him to do things, she wasn't telling him what to wear or who to be, and he liked that. He just felt good being with her. If he was honest with himself he liked her so much as a person that he'd rather take her as a friend than as nothing at all. And that was that.
The lifestyle section with a very large photo and story on the 'wedding of the year' was hidden under the table though. That certainly wasn't the way he wanted her to find out. It was almost ten o'clock, and he was still waiting in the hotel's patio for her to meet him for breakfast. Isabella and George had done a wonderful thing when they had set up this hotel. Instead of setting up an indoor breakfast parlor or instituting room service, they had transformed the family's private patio into a central gathering place for guests. The hotel was really an old residence in the shape of a U that had an open courtyard in the back. Small tables and comfortable chairs were set up in little conversational groups to encourage socialization. Breakfast was served buffet style, happy hour was a wine of the day with very large glasses, and just about any other time of the day it was a comfortable place to sit and just relax for a while.
They had been up rather late last night. After the first initial awkwardness, the clinking of glasses having opened things back up between them. They had eaten copious amounts of food, consumed a very large amount of Chianti, and talked about their lives. He had told her about his practice in New York and having to give it up to take care of his father's interests. He could certainly go back to doing that after everything got straightened out, and that's what Addie expected of him, but he wasn't certain himself whether that's what he really wanted to do. Meredith told him all about her famous mother (that had been a surprise! She was the daughter of Ellis Grey, imagine that.) and how she wasn't sure whether she wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps. It was a lot to live up to.
But now he sat reading his paper with a mildly annoying headache but with a happy grin on his face. It was a beautiful day, not too hot and not too cold. They were going to be spending the entire day sight seeing together. And they were friends. Life was good.
Just then he hears someone quietly come up and plop down in the chair next to him and let out a small "Umph." He folds down his paper enough to see Meredith in the same dress from yesterday, but this time her hair is a little frazzled and she has obviously just woken up. Her cute little face all glassy-eyed and seconds away from yawning.
"Coffee." She grunts at him, staring off dazedly with the just-woken hasn't had coffee yet stare.
He slides over the French press he had been making his way through and watches in amusement as she pours herself a very generous cup and sips at it gratefully.
"Rough night?" He asks unnecessarily.
She doesn't look back at him, only gratefully taking another sip of her coffee and says simply, "Jet lag sucks."
"Well, that should be over by tomorrow. It generally only takes me a couple of days to acclimate." He offers.
"You promise?" She says, turning to address him for the first time.
"I promise." He answers back, really not being able to promise such a thing, but it seems like the right thing to say at the moment.
Her eyes dip down to stare at his lips and he feels kind of flustered for a second, but she rights things by asking, "So what's on the agenda for today?"
He folds his paper up and places it on the table and says, "Well, yesterday you seemed to question my guide-giving abilities. I have to admit that my enthusiasm may have been somewhat lacking."
Meredith snorts a little at his playing down of his less than reverential treatment of the ruins and waits for him to continue.
"So I propose that today I give you the Derek's favorite places tour of Rome." He offers with a very charming smile.
"These favorite places don't involve espresso and lots of special 'views', does it?" Meredith asks while making parenthesis in the air around 'views'.
"I obviously had had too much Chianti at that point to have told you about that." Derek harrumphs, pretending to be wounded by her words. "But no, these are all of the places that I find the most charming and interesting about Rome. You should be flattered. You are the first person to have ever had the privilege of taking the Derek's favorite places tour of Rome." He pronounces with a certain degree of faux-narcissism and charming smile.
"Well, in that case, how could a girl refuse?" Meredith answers with a roll of her eyes, but then states, "Breakfast first though."
"And a trip to the store." She adds after a few seconds and looks down at her second day outfit.
Derek doesn't say anything though. He likes the dress. He'd be happy if she wore it every day. But then she'd probably never wear it again if he told her that. So he stays silent, pours her another cup of coffee, and they enjoy their breakfast. Together.
Meredith and Derek make their way along the Via Claudia, having gotten off on the Coliseo metro stop and walked south. They had passed through the tall buildings immediately surrounding the coliseo and made their way into an older neighborhood of ancient brick buildings and red-tiled roofs. Most of the doors have beautiful ancient mosaics above the door to designate the resident's occupation. It's all very charming.
They have spent the past couple of hours walking around from store to store around the Piaza di Spagna, Meredith shopping and Derek asking her just what was so important if he was the only one who got to see what she was wearing. She had told him 'just cause' and proceeded to purchase the long-sleeved linen turquoise shirt, tiny white shorts, and serviceable brown sandals she was currently wearing. She had even talked him into trading in his trademark linen shirt for a tight black simple short-sleeved tee, which may or may not have been the best decision on her part. The black color was doing wonders to emphasize the blackness of his hair and the tight sleeves accentuate his shapely biceps. And for some reason he had picked up some sun glasses that he had refused to take off in the stores.
"Is there something you should be telling me Derek?" Meredith asks as she takes a sip of the water they had bought at a little sandwich stand back a ways.
"Like what?" He asks and then takes a bite of his sandwich, the said sunglasses still on. Meredith has to admit he looks good in them, all Italian chic and all, but it's kind of been bothering her all morning.
"You aren't a member of the walking dead, are you?" Meredith quips as she offers him the water bottle.
"What?" He yelps, surprised enough to almost drop the water bottle in mid transfer.
"Sunglasses, Derek. You've worn them into every store we've been into this morning. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were taking me somewhere to suck my blood." Meredith explains with a touch of humor.
"Oh." He says as he takes of the glasses, grins sheepishly, and then says, "Um…well, actually, I kind of need to tell you something."
"Duca means Dracula and you're a three hundred year old vampire?" Meredith teases while she signals for him to hand over half of the sandwich.
"No." He answers with a little laugh, hands off the sandwich, and takes a deep breath. "It does have something to do with the Duca thing though."
"I know, it means Duke in Italian. Is it some kind of nickname or something?" Meredith asks as she takes a bite of the sandwich.
Derek looks at her like she has grown two heads, so she answers back with a mouth full of food, "What? I looked it up. I'm not stupid."
"No, of course not." He answers with a warm smile. She smiles back at him, but he still looks pensive. He even puts his hand up to rub his chin like he's trying to figure out how to say something.
"What? It's not like you're really a…" She starts to say, but then can't quite finish the sentence.
"Um…actually…." He stutters a bit, but then looks at her face. "Don't look at me like that!"
"Well, it's not like I get to meet a Duke every day, you know." She counters, trying valiantly to pick her jaw up off the floor.
"It's just something I was…born with. I'm still Derek. It's just some stupid title." He defends as he pretends to kick some stray pebble lying across his path.
"But why didn't you tell me before? And why wear the sunglasses today? You didn't wear them yesterday. Or the day before." Meredith pushes, full of questions at this unexpected turn of events.
"Well, you know people kind of act a certain way around me when they hear the whole "Duke" thing. I just…" Derek tries to explain, but gets stuck and can only finish with, "The Duke was my father. I'm just me: neurosurgeon Derek. I never thought he would die."
Meredith immediately stops and takes his hand to squeezes it in comfort. He has tears in his eyes, but he smiles through them. They stand frozen on the pavement for a moment, him trying to gather himself together and her offering comfort, until he wipes his eyes with the hand holding the water bottle and breaks contact with her.
"I'm alright." He says finally, and continues walking.
After a couple of seconds of silent walking, she quietly asks, "How did he die?"
"You see, that's the funniest part of it all." Derek says with a little laugh, and then continues with, "He died like he lived: full of life. My mom, my sisters, and I on one side, his mistress and her children on the other, and all of his friends telling crude jokes right up until the end."
"Sounds like quite a guy." Meredith remarks sarcastically.
"Oh, he was." Derek answers enthusiastically. "After his first heart attack, the doctors told him he had to cut down. But he wouldn't listen. He liked good food and good women and damn what some pesky doctor was going to tell him." He relays with an inward smile.
"What did he think about his son being one of the pesky ones?" Meredith inquires, warmed by the obvious high regard Derek holds his dad.
"Oh, as long as I was a surgeon, it was alright. Surgeons being much higher than regular doctors, you understand." Derek confides, obviously quoting.
Meredith laughs along with him, but then remembers to ask, "But you still haven't answered my other question."
"Oh, you mean these?" He says as he holds up the sunglasses. "There was a picture of me in the paper this morning, and I didn't really feel like being mobbed."
This confuses Meredith a bit though, so she asks, "They don't know what you look like? Aren't you like on TV and in magazines and stuff?"
"No. I don't really like that stuff. I wasn't even allowed in the country until 2002." Derek explains.
"Oh, you mean with the exile stuff you mentioned before."
Derek just nods, but then Meredith gets an evil look on her face. "Are you telling me there's no buttery spread commercials out there with your name on it? Or one's with you telling everyone how to get the world's most perfect hair?" Meredith teases, trying to lighten up the gloomy mood.
"Buttery spread?" Derek asks in confusion.
"Chick flick, you wouldn't understand." Meredith says with a roll of her eyes and a toss of her hand.
"I would hope not." He agrees with a laugh, but then turns the tables on her with, "You think I have the world's most perfect hair?"
Meredith isn't having any of that though. "You know you do. Don't let it go to your head, or something."
"Oh, I am so going to let it go to my head. Here, you might want to run your fingers through it just to make sure." He says as he bends his head over in her direction.
"I am so not touching your hair." Meredith responds a little nervously, as she very much remembers pushing her fingers through it last night when they had been kissing so passionately.
"You know you want to." He continues to joke, not being able to see her face, so he continues to push his hair further into her face.
Meredith instead pushes him lightly in the other direction, and he veers off slightly, laughing all the way.
"Hey! You made me scrape my hand on the wall." He teasingly complains, for he had barely grazed the ancient brick wall on his left when she had oh so slightly pushed him.
"You are such a baby. I hardly touched you." Meredith gripes with a roll to her eyes.
"You want to kiss it and make it feel better?" He says as he offers her his hand as they pass by an opening in the wall. He suddenly stops though and declares, "We're here!"
Before them is a perfect rectangle of an opening in the brick wall with a sign that says "Chiesa S Stefano Rotondo" painted over the entryway. The high wall rises up over the entrance like an ancient gate-house and even has a small layer of red brick tiles gracing the portico. The same bricks that make up the walls grace the ground as a paved street leading to what looks like a church. Tall pines line the two sides of the path and lead on to an entrance of Corinthian columns. He could not wait to see Meredith's face when she saw this!
"Welcome to part one of Derek's favorite places in Rome tour. Our first stop is the very ancient, but not so ancient by Rome's standards, fifth century church of Santo Stefano Rotondo." Derek says in his very finest tour-guide voice. They pass under the entrance and make their way under the swaying pines.
Meredith silently laughs at him, but stays quiet, so he continues with, "This church was the first Roman church to have a circular plan and was inspired by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem."
"I didn't know you were such a history buff." Meredith quips as they approach the arched columns of the church and pass under into the cool outer courtyard.
"I'm not, I just like it here." Derek explains, but before Meredith can open the huge wooden doors, Derek stops her with his hand and says, "I have to warn you about something before you go in."
"You're scaring me here." She says with a partial little laugh.
"Well, this is kind of a special church…." He begins, but doesn't know how to quite explain the rest.
"Yes, you said it's the first round church in Rome. I get it, Rotondo." Meredith responds a little shortly.
"Yes, well, just be warned that some of the scenes on the walls are a little gruesome." Derek tells her vaguely, but takes his hand away from blocking her entry.
"Okay." Is all she says as she gives Derek a suspicious look, but then opens the door and steps inside.
Derek walks in behind her practically humming in anticipation of her response, but able to keep it to himself for now. Greeting him is the familiar beauty of the Rotondo: the inner Corinthian columns of marble encircling the altar, the high domed center with light shining down from tiny medieval windows, and the outer ring of beautiful frescoes.
He sighs in appreciation and looks down to see Meredith smiling in enjoyment at the eccestetial beauty too.
"Now, the walls of this church are decorated with frescoes painted in the 16th century portraying 34 scenes of martyrdom." Derek explains again in his tour-guide voice.
Meredith walks over in a daze to look at the nearest fresco, but then turns to him suspiciously and asks, "Did you just say martyrdom?"
"Look!" He tells her, indicating for her to look closely at the scene spread out before her. He puts his hands behind his back and silently waits for her reaction. It is everything he could have hoped for.
She pears closely at the fresco, trying to pick out what exactly is happening in the scene. Her scrunched up face suddenly slackens in horror, and she declares, "They are so not doing what I think they are doing. Are they?"
All Derek can do is laugh. That was priceless. She turns around and yells, "You are sick! This is disturbing! This is your favorite place in Rome?"
Derek cannot answer though; he is presently bent over laughing with tears coming out of his eyes. "You….your face…oh my god that was priceless. You should have seen your face." He says while holding onto his side and trying to suppress the laughter.
Meredith only glares at him, and when it doesn't look like he's going to stop, walks over and plops herself down on the altar. Derek gets himself under control and sits down beside her.
"You have to admit it is pretty cool." He offers when she continues to glare at him. She stares at him in annoyance, but he only smiles back boyishly, so she is obliged to finally smile and say, "Yeah, I guess it is pretty cool. But you are still sick and twisted."
"Hey, you would have never gotten something this cool on one of those traditional tourist tours." He says a little narcissistically.
"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." She tells him dead pan, but then smiles a little to let him know that she's teasing.
"Hey, Derek's Roman tour is the best. It comes with its very own charming Duke that has the world's most perfect hair and the saving of damsels in distress as some of his sterling credentials." He offers with a bright Prince Charming smile.
"You so need to get over yourself." Meredith says dampeningly, but laughs all the same.
He knows she likes it. If she didn't, she wouldn't laugh. He turns to face the frescos and just soaks in the beauty of the church for a moment. It is a quiet moment. No one else is in the church, the sounds of the outside city kept out by the thick walls, and he is suddenly drawn to say, "Okay, I shared my deep dark past, you share something."
"Like what?" Meredith answers in lazy relaxation.
"Um…How about what the thing that you do is?" He asks, this being something he's been dying to ask for quite some time now.
"What thing?" She asks in confusion.
"You know, the thing we don't have to do? You said it when you were sleeping." He reminds her, having been burning of curiosity ever since she uttered the phrase while he was carrying her in his arms.
"Oh." Meredith says with a huge blush. "I'm not telling."
"That's not fair. I poured my heart and soul out to you. You wouldn't tell me whether you wanted me to wake up next to you either, you know." He says, but then pauses at a thought. "Maybe the two are connected?" He says in rising excitement.
"So not telling." Meredith responds coolly but with amusement behind her eyes.
"Okay then. If you won't answer those two questions, how about a game of twenty questions then?" Derek offers instead.
"Twenty each or all together?" Meredith asks for clarification.
"Each. Has to be totally truthful answers. We are in a church."
"A totally whacked out church." Meredith comments snidely.
"A church none the less. Come on, it'll be fun." He wheedles, liking the idea of this more and more the more he thinks about it.
"Alright, Gomez Adams, what's your first question?"
"What's the thing we don't have to do?" He asks with a huge grin.
"Arrr! You are impossible!" She responds with a strong hit to his shoulder.
He play pretends that she hurt his shoulder, but then tells her, "Tell the truth now." She's good and trapped now.
"Alright, but you can't say anything, make a face, or respond in any way."
"Oh, this is going to be good."
"Shut up." She orders with a pointed glare.
Derek points his hand at himself in a "who me?" gesture, but then settles down to listen.
"Okay, well, before I met Finn."
"Vet boy. Or future vet boy, that is." Derek teases.
"Do you want to hear this or not?"
Derek puts his chin in his hand and pretends to listen intently.
Meredith laughs a little bit at his antics, but continues with, "When I first got to college I had quite a reputation for ingesting copious amounts of tequila in one sitting and then taking home the nearest male warm body."
"You naughty naughty girl, you." Derek teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
"Yes, well, I had this little phrase that I used to say to them to get them the hell out of my room the next morning."
Derek's face lights up in understanding, and he can't help asking with big puppy dog eyes, "You wouldn't have kicked me out, would you?"
Meredith doesn't say anything, only teasingly telling him with her eyes that she certainly would have.
"I am hurt, deeply hurt." Derek says, pretending to clutch his chest in pain.
"Okay, drama queen, your turn."