Again, thanks bunches for all the lovely reviews to the last chapter, and for all of you that are following/favoriting the story. To sommers-girl, Juni, Rachel, 4everilmh and other Guests that I haven't been able to thank personally, thank you for finding the story and commenting. (Rachel - thanks as well for your reviews to my satirical little story 'Make the Madness Stop', I hope you find the time to check out some of my other completed fics!)

As for this chapter, Meredith deals in rumors and Derek will have to deal with death. Inbetween, their paths cross again, and sparks will continue to fly. Hope you like it!

Chapter Three - Rumor Has It

Seattle Enquirer Front Page

Local Man Found Dead
Byline: Meredith Grey

Local area resident Gareth Shepherd was found dead on the shore of Elliot Bay in the early hours of the morning two days ago. According to sources, he had been strangled and left in the frigid waters of the bay. Shepherd has been identified by his brother, Derek Shepherd, owner of Seattle's trendy new restaurant Ravish. While the police have admitted there are no suspects at this time, it is alleged that Gareth had ties to some of the criminal elements of Seattle, and his death could be gang related.

We have contacted Derek Shepherd for a comment, but he has declined to speak with us. His restaurant has quickly become the new place to be seen in Seattle, and his meteoric rise on the culinary scene is quite remarkable. The food is reputed to be sublime, the atmosphere electric, and the waiting list for a reservation extremely long. One wonders just how Derek has come on the scene so quickly, and where he received his funding. Rumor has it...

"Oh, I can't believe she wrote that," Derek grimaced, not bothering to read any further. He snapped the paper shut and shoved it aside, before picking up his coffee cup again. He'd sent Lucinda out to pick up the morning papers, including the Seattle Enquirer, at which she'd lifted her eyebrows but made no comment. Now he wished he hadn't bothered with it.

"What a fabrication of lies and innuendo! Where does she get the nerve to do that? And how did she know Gareth was strangled?" He knew damn well she had nothing to go on, and yet she managed to spin the situation into something more than it was. Still, he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind since the night before; the image of her ass as she'd sauntered away from him was seared in his brain. While it was obvious she was doing her best to seduce him just to get the story, he was just as intent on not letting her get to him. It might be interesting to play along, just to see how far she would go; but was it worth the aggravation?

His cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts, and he frowned to see it was Det. Hunt again. "Yes?" he answered. "Have you found anything out about Gareth's murder yet?"

"Unfortunately, no. But I wanted to tell you that the coroner has completed all of her work, and you are able to have the funeral home take the body."

A cold chill settled in Derek's body, removing any thoughts of Meredith's seduction, at the stark realization of planning Gareth's funeral. "I see. Thank you. I'll make the arrangements then. Have you seen that article in the paper? About Gareth being involved with gangs?"

"I heard about it. I'm not sure if there's any truth to that. Your brother had some arrest records, as you know, but nothing major. If he was involved, it was never in the open. It's an angle we can pursue, of course. You never saw him with anyone that seemed gang related?"

"Never. And as far as where I got my start up cash is completely irrelevant. Gareth had nothing to do with my restaurant. In fact, I was constantly bailing him out of one mess or another with MY money."

"Ah, so you admit you had reason to be angry with him, then?"

Derek opened his mouth to reply, and then stopped and reconsidered his answer. He had several reasons to be angry with Gareth, but he didn't need to let Hunt know that. "I think if you want to ask me those kinds of questions, I want my lawyer present. But I would hope that you have better suspects in mind to chase down, Hunt. Despite his flaws, Gareth was still my brother, and I would never have done anything to him."

"It's been known to happen, Mr. Shepherd. I'm sure you're aware that family members are often the suspects in a murder case. I can tell you one thing, the crime scene wasn't the beach. Someone took him there and left him in the water. We're still looking for Gareth's car, it's missing and I assume the killer has disposed of it somewhere. If we can find that, I'm sure there will be trace evidence that can help us find the suspect. It's only a matter of time, Mr. Shepherd, but if we have more questions, you're certainly welcome to have your lawyer present."

"Fine."

When Derek ended the call, he raked his hand through his hair in frustration. He stood up and decided to go for a run to clear his head before dealing with the details of Gareth's funeral. Between that, and Ms Grey's piece in the paper, his well-ordered life had been thrown into chaos. He couldn't even grieve yet; there were too many other things to focus on.

Meredith hunched lower behind the steering wheel of her rented car, keeping an eye on the outside of Derek's house. Obviously he was doing extremely well in life, based on what she could see of the grounds and the exterior. Either that or he was in debt up to his eyeballs, but she wasn't sure about that. According to the information Mark had gathered, Derek had inherited a small amount of money when his mother passed away, though not enough to have funded the restaurant and this gorgeous home. And yet, if he had been involved in anything shady, it wasn't obvious. There wasn't any way she could get access to his financial records, so she would have make do with speculation about some things, as she had done in the first piece she'd written. Luckily George had come through with a few more details from the autopsy, texting her just before the paper had been ready to print. Maybe Mark could pull some strings and get some financial information, or find a hacker to break into bank records. He had his own sources that he preferred to keep to himself.

Then the front gates of Derek's property opened, and he appeared, wearing a grey t-shirt and black running shorts, and she whistled softly. "What great legs you have, Mr. Shepherd…" He stretched for a moment, before sprinting away down the street, towards the running trails that followed the edge of Elliot Bay. "Oh god, he's into running…I hate running..." she muttered. "Why wasn't that in the dossier?"

She watched him for a moment, and then eased the car onto the road, trying to keep a discreet distance, but there wasn't much traffic and she was afraid she was being too obvious. The rented Honda was generic enough, but still she didn't want to bring attention to herself. "Crap, he's just running, I don't need to follow him," she said finally when he disappeared from view. "Wait, what if he's going to hide evidence or something? Don't they say the killer always returns to the scene of the crime...?"

With that thought in mind, she parked the car quickly and jumped out. She wasn't dressed for jogging, in dark slacks and sweater, but maybe she could keep an eye on him from a distance. "Damnit Mark…I'm gonna smack you for missing this," she sighed, pulling out her cell phone.

"He's running!" she said as soon as Mark answered.

"Running? As skipping out of the country?"

"As in jogging along the shore of the bay, why didn't you have that in the notes?"

"Relax Grey, I'm sure he won't go far. Sorry for not knowing that, but sources aren't always reliable, you know that," Mark chuckled. "Unless of course you want to run after him in your heels, which is something I'd pay to see!"

"Ass. I'll have you know I don't always wear heels when I'm out working," she informed him. "I'm wearing flat boots today, but still not good for jogging."

"Well, stick around awhile and see if he comes back. If not, just try a different tack. Bribe his housekeeper, or talk to some of the employees at the restaurant."

"You're right, I just got flustered," Meredith sighed.

"I'll bet you did. He probably looks pretty hot working up a sweat, am I right?"

Meredith flushed. "Um, gotta go, Mark. Talk to you later." She ended the call before he could make another smart remark. From her vantage point, she could see Derek moving quickly along the trail, completely focused on his run. It didn't appear that he was doing anything suspicious, and she relaxed a little. All she had to do was wait for him to return on the loop and then she could talk to him. She just had to think of something to say.

Derek ran quickly, trying to keep his mind clear, even though too many thoughts threatened to take over. It felt good to sweat and push his body to the point of aching in order to forget. Forget that Gareth was gone, forget that Hunt might suspect him of doing something criminal, forget that Meredith Grey had been trying to seduce him to get a story. He could get through this, and everything would go back to the way it was before. It had to, he hated that everything was careening out of control.

As he went past the rocks along the shore, he wondered briefly where Gareth had been found. He ran along here quite frequently, and he was surprised he hadn't seen anything that morning. It bothered him that Gareth had been followed; he had his faults, but he should have known to cover his tracks better. And it bothered him that Gareth had died out here alone after attempting to call for help. That was going to haunt him for a long time.

Once he made it around the trail, he wiped the sweat out of his eyes, and slowed to a walk. Then he noticed the car waiting at the edge of the trail, and he narrowed his eyes, seeing Meredith standing there. "You again. This is becoming a unfortunate occurrence," he muttered, unable to avoid her. "I thought I told you to stay away from me."

Meredith held out a bottle of water. "Thought you might be thirsty," she said, shrugging.

"Are you following me now?"

"It's my job, Mr. Shepherd. Do you want the water or not?"

He took the bottle from her hand and twisted the cap off. "Thank you, Ms Grey. You'll forgive me if I don't feel like staying to make small talk." He took a few swallows of the water, and then splashed some of it over his face and down his chest. Meredith watched in fascination as the water penetrated his t-shirt, adding to the sweat that already drenched the material. It clung to him, outlining every ripple of his muscle, every definition of his abs. There was no doubt about it, he was lean and fit, something only hinted at from the cut of his expensive suits.

"Are you sure you don't want to speak with me?" she asked finally, making eye contact again.

"You seem to be very adept at making up things to sell your paper, what do you need me for?" he countered. "You have no idea what happened with Gareth, or what I did to get my restaurant started. I was serious when I said I would sue your paper for slander, didn't I make that clear enough last night?" He found himself standing closer to her despite himself, until they were only inches apart. "Someone killed my brother, and it wasn't me. I have nothing to gain from his death. I keep telling people that!"

Meredith gulped, inhaling the very masculine scent of his sweat, which triggered a primal response in her. She touched his chest, trailing her fingers over the wet shirt. "Like I said before, you don't frighten me. I'm just doing my job, Mr. Shepherd."

"Really? Is that all this is about then? Doing your job?" He looked down at her hand that lingered on his chest.

"Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Shepherd, it's nothing more than that," Meredith managed to say, pulling her hand back. "My boss wants me to submit something, so I need to fill that space in the paper. You're big news these days, whether you want to admit it or not."

"Why?" Derek frowned, taking another swallow of the water left in the bottle.

"Why? Good god, papers sell on this kind of scandal. Surely you know that!"

"I've never paid much attention to scandal," Derek admitted. "Too busy."

"Well, trust me, this kind of thing has juicy scandal written all over it. You're a successful business man, your brother had a criminal record and he died under mysterious circumstances! Television movies have been based on less than that."

Derek tossed the empty bottle back to her. "Well, trust me, Ms Grey. There's nothing sinister about it. Gareth probably pissed someone off and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I hate that he's dead, but I can't bring him back. I'm a realist. And if you'll excuse me, I have a funeral to plan."

Meredith put her hand on his arm to delay him. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I know how it is to lose someone close to you."

Derek nodded shortly. "It's not what I want to be dealing with, believe me. And it's less than amusing to see my life played out in the papers."

"It sells papers, Mr. Shepherd," Meredith reminded him. "It makes the internet gossip sites go crazy. Maybe if you give me some kind of exclusive, tell me about Gareth and what he was like, it'll defuse some of the more salacious talk. Think about it."

"Don't get your hopes up," Derek said dryly, but he really didn't think it mattered one way or another what he said about the situation. "Now I do have to go. Good bye, Ms Grey." Derek jogged away, leaving her staring at the sight of his very fine backside disappearing down the street. She felt like stamping her foot in frustration; this was getting her nowhere at all.

Derek showered quickly, washing away the sweat of his run, and he shook off the memory of Ms Grey's luminous eyes as she had spoke to him. He didn't have time to deal with her, and whatever lies she was going to write about him. She was just a reporter, nothing to concern himself with, he thought as he toweled himself dry. Just because she had the kind of body that made him want to explore her curves, or that she looked at him with eyes that seemed to see right through him shouldn't matter; he'd been with every kind of woman, without looking back. What was it about her that seemed to stick in his brain?

He crossed the floor of his bedroom to pull a suit out of the closet, along with one of his perfectly pressed shirts. Then he went to the dresser, and looked for his cufflinks. The usual black onyx ones that were his favorite seemed to be missing, and he frowned. Obviously he had misplaced them, and he pulled out another pair from the rosewood case where he kept the few pieces of jewelry he owned. He owned several watches, and various cufflinks which he preferred. They appealed to his sense of sophistication, another reminder to himself of how far he'd come in life.

The only other articles in the box were his mother's ring, and an old pocket watch that belonged to his father. It made him stop for a moment, seeing the two items, and he couldn't help but think he had no longer had any family. He picked up the ring and turned it over in his fingers, recalling his mother's warm smile. She would be proud of his success with the restaurant, but she wouldn't have been happy of what he'd done to get to this point. It didn't matter now, what was done was done. He set the ring aside, and attached the cufflinks, before he stared at his reflection in the mirror as he knotted his tie. He resolutely kept his thoughts on the matter at hand. It was time to deal with the business of death.