Can I say how much fun I had writing this Chapter? The keyhole and park depicted in this update were two things that were not on my itinerary and I just happened to find while out exploring one day. If anyone gets a chance to go to Rome, I heartily recommend checking them out. Or you can just live vicariously through Meredith and Derek. That's what I do! If you love the story, please review. If you hate it, please review. You get the picture ;-p
Recommended soundtrack: Blue Eyes by the Cary Brothers
"Alright, it's my turn to ask a question." Derek says as they pass along the Via Di S Sabina that runs almost parallel to the Tevere river on the southwest side of Rome.
Derek had asked Meredith to hold the game until they had finished looking at the church. Most churches in Rome closed at 4 pm, and with the long late breakfast, clothes shopping, and traveling it had already been close to three. Meredith had grudgingly agreed, pretty sure he was just trying to get out of answering any questions, but willing to let it go. For the moment, that is.
So they had walked around and looked at what Charles Dickens (they had found a pamphlet) described as "Grey-bearded men being boiled, fried, grilled, crimped, singed, eaten by wild beasts, worried by dogs, buried alive, torn asunder by horses, chopped up by small hatchets…..these are among the mildest subjects".
Meredith still thought it was gross, but all men were really grown up boys who liked guns and blood, so she played along. It was really cute to see him point out his favorite "scenes" on particular frescos. His eyes would light up and he'd get all excited and wait for her grossed out reaction. She didn't have the heart to tell him she wasn't that grossed out anymore, so she just kept on giggling.
"Wait, I want to see the key hole first." Meredith insists as they march up a very residential neighborhood onto the Aventine Hill.
"I can't believe you used one of your twenty questions to ask me where we were going next." Derek says in pretend disappointment.
"Well, you scared me with the last one." She quips back as they approach what looks like the entrance to a walled church.
"It was not scary." He insists as he directs her not to the main entrance, but to two very large blue double-doors set into the wall a little ways off to the left.
"Fine, it wasn't scary. You're scary." She insists with a little teasing laugh.
"If you're not nice to me, I might not show you which key-hole it is. You could end up looking in someone's backyard for all you know." He teases back.
Meredith has seen where they are walking toward though and is pretty sure where they are heading. "Well, I wasn't about to use another question on that." She comments, takes a look to make sure he's not watching her, and makes a mad dash for the blue doorways.
He bolts after her, but he isn't fast enough. She makes it to the door seconds before him and leans down to pear through the door, and then sucks her breath in delighted surprise. Before her is a shaped shrub garden perfectly manicured and molded to frame to the near distant dome of St. Peter's Basilica. It is breathtaking.
"I told you you'd like it." Derek remarks smugly from his now-leaning perch on the door. She moves her eyes sideways, without moving the rest of her body, and is given a perfect view of his crotch. Bad Meredith, bad. You are friends, remember? Finn, think of Finn. Although Finn wasn't really on her list of favorite people right now. He has a girlfriend too. Think of that. Stare at the church Meredith, stare at the church.
She makes her eyes move back to the picture postcard view and answers, "It's breathtaking." She takes a couple more seconds to drink her fill, and truth be told to get the picture of Derek's crotch out of her mind, and stands up. Derek only smiles back at her happily and takes his turn at the keyhole.
"Isn't that amazing? Can you believe someone took the time to plan an entire garden around a view?" Derek asks in amazement, still looking into the keyhole.
He soon stands up though, and they look at each other in happy relaxation. "So that was fun. Where do we go next?" Meredith interjects into the happy moment.
Derek just laughs, leads her around down the street, and says, "I have the perfect place to finish our game of twenty questions."
"That's only because it's your turn." She scoffs.
They don't have far to go though. At the end of the drive is a wrought-iron entrance worked into the same wall that surrounds the church, but this one leads to a small city park. Written on a small plaque are the words "Parco Savello" and spread throughout the small parcel of land is dozens of potted orange trees.
As they walk into the park, Meredith can see up ahead the same dome that was framed so elegantly by the shrubs next door. And as they continue to walk Meredith feels her eyes widen and her jaw drop at the breath-taking view. For in panoramic view, the entire city of Rome to the north and slightly north-east is spread out before her. St. Peter's dome is directly to the far off north, while the Trevere river flows underneath them. Even the Vittorio Emmanuelle monument can be seen off in the distance, rising behind the Palatino.
"Derek, this is breath-taking." She says needlessly as they make their way over to the stone wall look-out point.
They both sit reflectively on the wall, letting their legs dangle over the edge, and Derek says, "Now THIS is my favorite place in all of Rome. The other stuff was just for fun."
Meredith is still in rapture at the site and simply answers, "I can understand why."
"It's a good place to think." He says as he pulls his legs up underneath him, places his hands on his knees, and stares out at the city with his chin resting atop.
"Think about what?" She asks soberly as she senses the change of tone in his voice.
"Oh, life, the world, and everything." He answers vaguely as he pulls himself back from his thoughts and turns to look at her.
"What were you thinking about just now?" She pushes, really intrigued by the sudden heaviness that seemed to have settled on his shoulders for just that second. He's been nothing but light-hearted and flirty the entire day, and she feels like for the first time she might be getting a glimpse of the real Derek.
"I don't really want to talk about it." He insists.
"I'm using it as one of my questions." She insists even more, not wanting to pry but her curiosity overcoming her.
Derek raises an eyebrow, but then smiles at her tactic. "Alright, but then I get two questions for my next turn because it really is my turn this time."
"Alright." She agrees softly, knowing that whatever he says next is probably worth all of her questions anyway.
"Well," He begins with a strong sigh, and then pulls it together to say, "I just feel kind of lost lately."
He pauses, but she remains quiet and waits for him to speak. "I've always tried to live my own life, do the things that I wanted, be my own person, you know?" He asks, turning to her for affirmation.
She nods back, knowing exactly what he is talking about. Hasn't she always struggled for the same thing with her own larger-than-life mother?
"But ever since my father died, all of these responsibilities have come crashing down. I had to give up my practice to come take care of all of his business interests. I've had to step up and take care of my mother and my sisters. Not that I mind doing that, it's just that this Duke thing seems to be taking up more and more of my life. All of these things have just been kind of shoved at me." He says with an over-whelmed look, obviously thinking about all of these things, but then continues with, "but the funny thing is, I kind of like it because I wasn't really happy with my practice. Oh, I love my patients and I love being a neurosurgeon, but it just wasn't challenging anymore. So I think to myself maybe I should try this Duke thing out, maybe it's what I need. Maybe I just need to give it a try. Maybe that'll make me happy."
He finishes his speech and then turns to Meredith with a self-deprecating smile and says, "You probably didn't want to hear all of that."
"No, I know what you mean." Meredith responds honestly, her own life giving her special insight into exactly what he's going through. "I told you my mother is Ellis Grey, right?"
"Right." He answers in mild confusion.
"Well, I didn't tell you that Ellis Grey is probably the world's biggest bitch." She reveals, a high degree of vehemence in her voice. Derek's eyebrows shoot up at the strong words, but stays quiet to hear her say, "She's been training me from day one to be a surgeon. It's always been when Meredith becomes a surgeon, she'll do this and when Meredith becomes a surgeon, she'll do that. I've dyed my hair pink, hung out with the wrong people, drank way too much liquor, but I'm pre-med in college, and I've gotten accepted into every medical school I applied for. I've never questioned that."
She pauses to take a breath, and then sucks in air to say, "But the night before I was about to go on this trip, my graduation present of all things, she tells me she doesn't think I have what it takes."
She doesn't want to cry, but suddenly a suppressed sob makes its way out of her throat and she has trouble continuing. Derek immediately scoots next to her, turns sideways, and pulls her into his lap. He holds onto her as she continues the tale with, "So here I am on my graduation vacation all of the sudden not knowing who I am. Do I want to go to medical school or was that really only what my mother wanted all along? So you see, I really do understand. I understand a lot better than you think."
"Aren't we just a pair?" Derek asks rhetorically as he holds her in his lap, peaking out at the view over her shoulder as the cool breeze of the early evening dries her tears.
Derek must realize the dicey situation that they are in though, because he starts to pull away. Meredith stops him with, "Derek?"
"Yes?" He asks, freezing in place to wait for her question.
"I know we're just friends and all, but could you just hold me for a few more minutes anyway?" She asks without turning around.
She gratefully feels him settle back down and can hear him smiling when he answers softly, "Sure."
Derek is feeling good. Good, good, good. Many, many shots of tequila could do that to a person. Meredith had made him. Blame her. HE only drank Scotch. But Meredith wanted to do shots. Shots, shots, shots, he thinks as he stares at another empty shot glass that he doesn't even remember drinking.
"Remind me again why I'm drinking tequila." Derek asks Meredith, slightly slurring his words as he watches the light from the bar refract off of his glass.
"You said we needed a drink." Meredith slurs back at him from the next bar seat in a quaint little Irish pub in Trastevere. Just like any Irish bar anywhere in the world it has very dark paneled wood walls, tables scattered all around, and a prominent bar of which they are sitting at.
That's not the issue though. He remembers sitting and holding Meredith at Parco Savello for what seemed like hours. They had sat and watched in silence as the hot Roman sun had descended behind the hills. The fading light had turned the buildings of Rome into a kaleidoscope of tans, oranges, and reds, with even a bit of purple mixed in. He had sat holding her in his arms and had never wanted to let go. Which is why he had concluded, on top of their maudlin moods, that they needed a drink.
"But I don't drink tequila." He argues back, this logic making sense in his very inebriated brain.
"But I do." She answers back with just as perfect drunk logic.
"Oh." He says, thinks about what she said, accepts it, and then says, "But I think it's my turn."
"What's your turn?" She asks as she slides her elbow up on the bar to rest her head half on it and stare at him inquiringly.
"It's my turn to ask a question." He answers vaguely.
But she knows exactly what he's talking about and says with a roll of her eyes, "It's always your turn."
"No. I got two questions because you asked me the one question. And then there were no questions after that. So now it's my question." He explains in a very halting tequila-induced logic.
"Fine, ask your stupid question." Meredith agrees, practically closing her eyes as her head starts to feel really comfortable in said hand.
This one question has been bothering him more and more as the night has gone on. He knows he shouldn't ask it, but he has to. Her eyes shoot open when she hears him ask, "Do you love him?"
"Love who? Finn?" Meredith clarifies.
"Yeah." Derek asks, absently swirling the empty tequila glass in his hand. This question has suddenly become very important to him.
"Yeah, sure, I guess." Meredith answers uncertainly, then turns the tables on him and asks, "Why?"
"I dunno." He answers, still twirling the glass around, but not willing to look her in the eye. He stops twirling it though, and sighs to ask, "How do you know you truly love someone?"
This question has been bothering him a lot as the time of his nuptials has become closer and closer. He knows he loves Addie. That isn't the question. She has always been there ever since he could remember. The first time they had met she had had little red pigtails at one of his birthday parties. He had been fascinated by how one person could have so many freckles. He remembers how she had ordered around all the rest of the boys at the parties, including himself, like they were little soldiers in her army. That certainly hadn't changed. But when had it turned into love? When had he decided that this was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with? Was he really IN love?
This time it's Meredith's turn to answer, "I dunno. I guess you just want to spend as much time with that person as possible."
"Hmph." Is Derek's only answer, almost a thinking humph more than a questionable humph. Well, to tell the truth, he rather likes Addison in small parcels of time. He enjoys it when they go out, he always has a good time, he enjoys spending time with her, but he also likes his time alone. He has his own hobbies, his own friends, his own likes and dislikes, and Addie is just one of those things he likes doing. Did he just say that? He has certainly had WAY too much tequila.
"What?" Meredith asks as he carefully places the shot glass on the bar and stares at it almost as if he's mesmerized by it.
"Nothing." He answers, continuing to stare at the shot glass as if it is the most interesting thing he has seen in his entire life. If truth be told, he'd had more fun in the last three days with Meredith than he had had all of since he could remember with Addison. Oh, he is so in deep shit. He slumps onto the bar and rests his weary head in his arms.
"Why are you in deep shit?" Meredith asks as she cracks a peanut open and pours it into her mouth.
Did he just say that out loud? "Did I say that out loud?" He asks as he turns his head to stare at Meredith from his leaned over position.
"Yes, you did." She tells him with a little unbalanced hand gesture. "Now spill before you make me use another question."
"I can't tell you this one." He says honestly. She would so hate him it would not even be funny. He could not have her hating him, he just couldn't.
Meredith stares at him shrewdly, well as shrewdly as one could after many many shots of tequila, willing him to answer the question with the intensity of her stare. He doesn't answer though, so she instead asks, "Do you love her?"
Maybe it was the tequila. Maybe it was the moment. Maybe it was that his mind was no longer connected to his tongue, but suddenly he finds himself blurting out, "I don't know."
Meredith's eyes open in shock and then she just stares at him for a moment. Then she lowers her head in an exact mirror of his, head in her hands, staring directly at him from across the small expanse of the bar.
"Do you like me?" She asks simply, both of them probably more sober in that moment than they've been in the last couple of hours combined.
"Yes." He answers just as simply, staring back at her across the bar, knowing that he shouldn't be saying the words but not able to stop himself from doing so. And seemingly he can't stop his hand from leaving its safe place from underneath his head to travel over to wipe a stray lock of hair away from her face.
He watches as she watches him pass his hand through her hair and almost sighs when she doesn't pull away.
"Derek." She says in a low throaty voice that he has no trouble deciphering. His hand stops as he stares into her eyes, certain that she wants him, but uncertain of what to do.
He knows it is wrong, he knows he is going to regret it in the morning, but he can't help himself from sighing and closing his eyes when she moves her hand up to his chin and rubs her thumb slowly across his lips. He stays perfectly still, with eyes closed, as he feels her hand splay out on his cheek and travel over to his ear. Her hand travels slowly upward through his hair and he has to mentally tell himself to breath at the sudden onslaught of sensation in his scalp. That hand travels back down across his ear, down his neck, and across his shoulder, to cup itself around his arm as it slides downward, to finally take his hand.
She takes his hand from her hair and gently places it on her thigh. He doesn't open his eyes for fear of making it all go away. He just lets his hand travel up the planes of her skin. His hand makes contact with the fabric of her shorts, and he feels her stiffen in anticipation. He opens his eyes to find her splayed out in the same fashion as he, eyes closed, head resting in one hand on the bar, the other resting by her side, as she waits for what's next.
He's wide awake now. He knows exactly what he is doing, but he doesn't care. He moves his hand up higher, underneath the folds of her shirt and up her side to slide his thumb across her breast. She makes a guttural noise in her throat, and he finds himself moving as close to her on the bar as he can get. He sits up straighter, only to bend down and move her hair aside as he nibbles along her exposed neck. She finally moves slightly in his direction and opens her eyes. He is lost. He scoops down to place his hands underneath her legs and back and picks her right up off the stool. Without a word, he carries her out of the bar and back to their hotel.