So do you think they got back together too fast? Should I have held out? I was seriously going to, but Meredith and Derek wouldn't let me. They have had such a strong connection from the very beginning, that I felt that if they ever did get in the same space again that it wouldn't take very long. Meredith would discover that he wasn't married, he would discover that she really had been heart broken, and that would have been that. I guess I did kind of cheat with the crisis of Ellis, but if you remember your Grey's history, it is Ellis's illness that stops Meredith from going to Europe. I just played around with it a little. I think this chapter is one giant ball of fluff with some underlying issues that I thought needed to be addressed. Thanks for reading!
IntlFloozy LOGIN SAT 12:33 AM
SexyProf LOGIN SAT 12:34 AM
IntlFloozy: Hey
SexyProf: Hey yourself
IntlFloozy: I like your screen name
SexyProf: I thought you would ;-)
IntlFloozy: You working?
SexyProf: Yep. Why?
IntlFloozy: Would you be charitable enough to help a girl out with her anatomy homework, would you?
SexyProf: Seriously?
IntlFloozy: Seriously. I'm way behind with the whole mommy thing
SexyProf: You're going to owe me.
IntlFloozy: That depends on how much you're able to help me :-p
SexyProf: Mommy's okay?
IntlFloozy: Yep, Back to her gloriously bitchy self sigh
SexyProf: You there now?
IntlFloozy: Unfortunately.
SexyProf: Sux
IntlFloozy: Yep. Just until the live-in can start.
SexyProf: When's that?
IntlFloozy: Monday
SexyProf: You going to be late for class?
IntlFloozy: Of course not, Dr. Shepherd
SexyProf: Ooh, call me that again.
IntlFloozy[ignores last statement So you going to help me or what?
SexyProf: Depends
IntlFloozy: Depends on what?
SexyProf: Depends on what you're wearing
IntlFloozy: What?!
SexyProf: C'mon. And anyways, you're the one that brought up anatomy.
IntlFloozy: You are a dirty dirty old man.
SexyProf: I can deal with that characterization.
IntlFloozy: Ummmmmmm…….ok.
SexyProf: Seriously?
IntlFloozy: You're the one that asked!
SexyProf: Yeah, but I didn't think you'd say okay.
IntlFloozy: exasperated Then why'd you ask?
SexyProf: I am a guy.
IntlFloozy: I guess that explains everything then rolls eyes
SexyProf: Pretty much. Kisses forehead for looking cute when rolls eyes
IntlFloozy: You seriously did not just e-kiss me?
SexyProf: Well, I can't kiss you in the real world
IntlFloozy: Yes, you can
SexyProf?!
IntlFloozy: In December
SexyProf: ha ha, very funny
IntlFloozy: You asked for it.
SexyProf: I guess I did. So what do you need help with?
IntlFloozy: Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you.
SexyProf: Awe, how cute.
SexyProf: So will you still tell me what you're wearing?
IntlFloozy: Nothing.
SexyProf: D&(983
IntlFloozy?
SexyProf: Sorry. I dropped my palm pilot
IntlFloozy: snickers
SexyProf: So are you really wearing nothing?
IntlFloozy: No!
SexyProf: So what are you wearing then?
IntlFloozy: You don't give up, do you?
SexyProf: Nope.
IntlFloozy: A black lacy corset buttoned up the front with tiny rosettes and…
SexyProf: Meredith?
IntlFloozy?
SexyProf: I don't believe you.
IntlFloozy: (in feigned shock) You don't?
IntlFloozy: Fine. Hello Kitty Underwear and a white t-shirt.
SexyProf: Sexy
IntlFloozy: Really?
SexyProf: Really.
IntlFloozy: Good to know. So what have you got on under the scrubs?
SexyProf: (silence)
IntlFloozy: Derek?
SexyProf: (silence)
IntlFloozy: Figures. I tell you mine and then you…
SexyProf: Sorry, I got paged.
IntlFloozy: Gotta go?
SexyProf: Yep.
SexyProf: Oh, and nothing.
IntlFloozy: Nothing?
SexyProf: Think about it ;-) See you on Monday!
SexyProf LOGSOFF 1:12 AM
IntlFloozy: See ya!
IntlFloozy: Great. Talking to myself.
IntlFloozy: sigh
IntlFloozy LOGSOFF 1:14 AM
Monday
"Hey, Meredith, wait!" Derek calls out to her as he dives through the auditorium doors in time to catch her after class.
She's with her friend, the one he now knows is Christina, and hisses, "You're not supposed to be talking to me."
"What? I'm just a professor talking to two of his students." He responds boyishly, grinning even larger when both women just scowl back at him and Meredith raises an eyebrow. For some reason, that just makes him want to smile even larger. He schools his features though, to ask, "Actually, I wanted to ask you something about your mother. Can I walk you to your next class?"
"Do you want to hold her books for her too? See you at home, Meredith." Christina says as she bolts down the stairs and down the sidewalk.
Meredith calls out to her back, "You're a real help!"
Christina only waves a hand back at her as she walks off into the distance.
"What was that about?" He asks, amused.
"She was supposed to keep me from being alone with you." Meredith huffs as she turns around and starts walking in a different direction than her friend just took.
"You can't be alone with me?" He asks with a satisfied grin that only males confident in the potent allure can give.
Meredith glares at him and says, "You are so full of yourself. I was just keeping the proprieties."
"Proprieties, smieties. You can't keep your hands off of me." He teases as they walk down a wide expanse of sidewalk that cuts across a sprawling green smack dab in the middle of campus.
"Don't you have somewhere to be? Big, important neurosurgeon like yourself?"
"Nope. They give me Monday and Wednesday afternoons for class stuff." He answers, flashing her a grin that says there is nowhere else he needs to be but here.
"Fine, but keep your hands to yourself." She warns him as she looks at him wearily, and then turns to face forward.
He retaliates by grabbing a little piece of her hair and tugging on it. She immediately does what he wants by looking at him, but he puts his hands into his jacket pockets and feigns innocence.
"Didn't you say you wanted to ask me about something?" She asks with a suspicious glare.
"Oh yeah." He answers as he's reminded of his original purpose for asking to walk with her. "I just wanted to know what you were going to do about your mom."
She just kind of sighs and says, "I don't know. It's not really up to me."
"How's your mom taking it?" He asks gently, not meaning to stir things up but knowing that she needs to talk about it.
"How would you react if you found out you had early onset Alzheimer's?" She poses with a downtrodden look.
"That good?" He asks in sympathy for what her mother must be going through. What she must be going through.
She kind of stares off into the distance before she answers, "She's taken a leave of absence from the hospital, but she hasn't told anyone what is going on, except for her boss that is. I don't think she's left her room in days."
"I'm so sorry, Meredith." He says as he takes her hand.
She stops on the sidewalk and looks at his hand. "You're not supposed to be touching me." She remarks as they stare at each other.
"A friend can take a friend's hand in sympathy." He tells her honestly.
Her face suddenly breaks out in a smile. "You are not my friend." She tells him rakishly and then pulls her hand out of his and keeps walking.
He follows her, but argues, "I am too."
"You are not. You're my professor." She reminds him. Not that he needed any reminding. He just about felt hoisted by his own petard trying to teach class today with her delectable self only a couple of rows away from him. Just how far away was December again?
"I could be your professor friend." He cajoles, trying to push the limits as far as she is willing to let him.
"Yes, and we all know how well the friends thing worked out last time." She reminds him yet again. But instead of dampening his enthusiasm, it just conjures up images of a cool Roman night complete with copious amounts of tequila, ripping clothes, and endless pleasure.
He licks his lips in remembrance and catches her watching. It's good to know that he's not the only one affected. He stops her by grabbing onto her shoulder and makes her look at him, when he says, "You know, no one would have to know."
He watches the idea rumble around in her mind as they stand at the far end of the diag, a couple of hundred feet in front of the building she seems to be heading for.
"Christina won't be home for a couple of hours." She responds, the heat in her gaze mirroring what he knows must be reflected in his own.
"Then we better hurry."
Oh, that feels good. Why is it that only his lips are the ones that make her sing? Is there some special property of the universe that makes their joining special? Was it all just pheromones and chemicals? She didn't know, but she didn't care with him kissing her in her doorway with her back up against the door. Luckily, she only lived a few blocks from campus; a dumpy little house that her and Christina shared. What one would call a member of the 'student ghetto': affordable houses within walking distance of campus, but only because the landlords made them only livable enough for poor college students.
"I have to get my keys out." She remarks breathily as she pulls herself reluctantly away from his kisses.
"Keys are good." He agrees, but immediately goes back to kissing her.
She giggles into his mouth, and he finally pulls back to let her actually let them into the house. She's momentarily dazzled by the happy smile on his face though and doesn't immediately turn to open the door.
"Door?" He prompts with an amused grin.
"Oh, right." She realizes with a start and turns to fish out her keys. She gets out of her purse and puts them in the lock, only to feel his arms wrap around her from behind and his lips start to suckle her ear.
She melts back into him for a second as he wraps his arms even further around her body. The warmth of his breath on her ear sending pools of pleasure throughout the rest of her body while his warm hard body molds itself to her backside.
"You're not helping." She says when he doesn't make a move to stop the sweet torture.
"Yes I am." He breathes into her ear, and then laughs. He lets her go, but the places he was touching still tingling in his absence.
She pushes the door open to a tiny hallway that opens onto the rest of the house. On their left is the living room and on their right the stairs to the bedrooms. Straight ahead is the tiny kitchen only large to meander around a small round table. It's a quintessential New England home with rooms tiny by modern standards but cozy with a sign of character. The floors are wood and the stairwell has tiny knobs and adornments. They even have a huge fireplace in the living room. But the walls are white and the only decoration is their dumpy college furniture. They just moved in a couple of weeks ago, so boxes from their old apartment in Boston litter the ground. She tosses her bag on the only clear surface, their couch, and turns to address Derek.
He takes an amused look around at the mess and comments, "Nice place."
"Well, we just moved in." She answers awkwardly, as they stand somewhere in the doorway of the living room. They both have smiles on their faces but neither seems to know how to continue.
Meredith decides to walk forward and holds out her hand for his briefcase. "You can take off your jacket, you know." She says with a little smile, suddenly shy at what they're about to do. He hands her his briefcase, and as she tosses it next to her bag, he takes off the light black parka he is wearing over his dress shirt. He hands that over to her too and she tosses it over their bags, only to turn back to stare awkwardly at him again.
"Meredith, we don't have to do this if you don't want to." He says as he brings his hand up to caress the hair above her ear.
She relishes the feel of his fingers winding through her hair before she answers, "It's just that…well, before we were in a foreign country. And it was over there…away from here…you know what I mean?"
"I'm still me, Meredith." He says softly, as she looks up at him with some trepidation.
"But who is you?" She asks simply, not sure if she even knows what she is asking.
But he seems to know. "You've always known the answer to that. I was more me when I was with you than I've ever been around anyone else."
She can only smile at that. What else are you supposed to do when someone tells you something like that? She simply takes his hand and leads him up the stairs, looking over her shoulder periodically to smile back at him.
She's unpacked her room more than the downstairs, but there's still a few select boxes placed around. Her full bed takes up most of the room with two side tables and lamps set up on either side. A large window takes up most of the space on the far wall, with the closet door and her dresser making up the remaining wall.
She leads him into the room and turns around to place a kiss on his lips. The kiss is cooler than the ones downstairs, but she can still feel the lingering heat. For months they have both been rolling around on a sea of emotions and misunderstandings. Now the storm has passed, the seas have calmed, and they find themselves sitting in the life-boat a great wide-open future before them. There are no fiancés or boyfriends waiting in the wings. There are no weddings on the horizon. For the first time, it was just them. And they didn't know what to do with each other.
She pulls back from him and they simply stare at each other. Her hand comes up to run across his jaw. She watches her hand relearn the contours of his chin and revels in the remembered scratchiness. Had she ever done this before? Taken the time to just explore his face? Everything had been so rushed before. They had just grabbed on, trying to take as much from the other before time ran out.
There is no clock in this room. Time seems to have actually slowed down. Sun shines in the dull window and dust mites swirl in the beckoning light.
She brings her other hand up to his face and pulls him in for a kiss. It's so quiet in the room that she can almost hear the beating of her own heart. Their mouths softly touch the plushness of their lips barely meeting enough to indent the other and then she pulls away. She takes an assessing look at him and then presses her lips back more firmly and deeper. This time he takes up her lead and plunges his tongue into her mouth. His arms come around to wrap themselves, and she stretches to feel him against her. The initial shyness giving way to remembered comfort. Her body telling her that it remembers what it feels like to be in this man's arms.
He must feel something in her give, because he pushes her back so that her legs rest against the side of her bed. Without breaking the kiss, she lets herself fall back onto the bed and he swiftly follows. She feels the hardness of his body lying against hers, and she is transported back to that first night they had shared together. It was another bed in another country, but really this was like the first time all over again. Where as then it had been hazy and hectic, fueled by the antics of tequila, this time they are completely sober. In more ways than one.
Unexpectedly, she feels a tear fall from the corner of her eye. She doesn't feel sad. It's more like a tear of joy. A tear of remembered sadness.
Derek must feel the salty wetness, because he raises his lips from her and asks tenderly, "Are you crying?"
"No, I've just got something in my eye." She lies.
He doesn't seem to believe her though, because he stands up, kicks off his shoes, and pulls her onto his side as he lays the proper way on the bed. He pulls her into his nook and places his arm around her and says, "You know, I was going to ask you to stay with me that night."
Surprised, she looks up at him. "You were?"
"I kept trying to tell you, but things kept getting in the way. First, that photographer came by to take our picture. Then the dancing started. And then we took that walk, remember?" He asks as he pats the top of her hair.
She runs her hands softly over his chest, as she responds, "Of course I remember. You ate all the chocolate sauce."
"Yes, I ate all the chocolate sauce." He says with a large smile, but then continues with, "I kept trying to wait for the perfect moment. But when I finally did, you fell asleep. My bellezza di sonno. But I just thought I would tell you in the morning."
Her eyes get large. "And then I…?" She stutters, realizing what he is telling her.
"Sh, sh, it's not your fault. It's my fault. I shouldn't have waited. How could you have known? For all you knew, I could have just been using you. I realize now what it took for you to even go with me. It was just so hard to tell you, because I didn't know what you would say. I was just…" He explains, but isn't quite able to finish the sentence.
She can do it for him though. "Afraid?" She answers, the word filling the air between them.
For if she could admit it, that's how she feels right now. It was so easy to let go when it was just a week. She could do whatever she wanted because she was never going to see him again. There would be no repercussions. Why be afraid of the future if there was no future? But right now, they both know that they could have a future if they wanted to. This wasn't just a fling. This was the real thing. This could be weekend barbeques and family dinners. This could be children and marriage and all those other grown-up things. This could be love.
And suddenly she is not afraid. That one little word gives her the courage to ask, "What were you going to tell me?"
He looks at her for minute, and she can see the wheels turning around in his mind. Is it too soon? Is now the right time? But finally, the wheels stop, and he says simply, "I was going to tell you that I loved you."
That really wasn't what she had expected to hear. Maybe that he was going to ask her to stay. That he found her company stimulating and wanted to see where it would go. Nothing so big as I love you.
"I loved you too. I mean, I loved you then too." She rambles a little.
The words kind of hover in the air around them, floating around them in happy contentment. His face looks a little shocked.
"Then…then why did you leave?" He asks in clear confusion.
Isn't it obvious? "I wanted you to be happy." She explains as her damn tear ducts seem to fill up again.
His seem to follow suit though, because he has a little trouble saying, "I am happy. Right now is the happiest I can remember being a long time. The last time I remember being this happy is the moment you fell asleep in my arms on a starry Roman night."
There is nothing she can say to that. Her tear ducts seem to be overflowing, but no tears fall. "Well, how about we fall asleep right here. I promise to be here when you wake up." She proposes.
"You promise?" He asks as his tears do overflow and one lonely member makes its way down the side of his face.
She reaches up and wipes away the tear and says simply, "I promise."