Thank you all for your kind words, and your patience regarding the delay in getting this chapter done. I know we all need to deal with sad events in our lives from time to time, so I won't go on and on about it but I do appreciate the support. All I'm going to say is that pets give us such unconditional love, and if you're lucky enough to share your life with one, cherish the time you have with them...it goes by too quickly.

Moving forward, here goes the next chapter...will Meredith decide to keep her date with Derek? Let's find out...

Chapter Eight
Feeling the Hunger

Meredith hurried into Mark's office in the morning, and closed the door behind her. He looked up from his laptop, and raised his eyebrow at her agitated expression, as she sat down without saying anything. "Well, good morning to you too, Grey…what's up?" She held up the photo of Derek and her at the cemetery, and Mark whistled as he took it from her. He read the words on the back, before glancing at her. "Is there something you want to tell me about this?"

"Someone left that in my mailbox, Mark. No one is supposed to give out my home address; I don't even have my phone number listed. How did this person find me?" she demanded. "It freaked me out."

"Someone is watching Shepherd, and obviously followed you. This is probably the same person who took that picture of the Shepherd brothers outside of Ravish," Mark mused. "You do look kind of involved in this photo…is he charming?"

"He's smooth and charming, and complicated as hell. I'm sure I have no idea who the 'real' Derek is," she admitted. "Anything I've tried to discover about his past life seems to be pretty basic stuff. If he's done anything criminal he's hidden it well."

"Everyone has their secrets. I'm sure you have several of your own."

"We're not discussing me, Mark," Meredith said firmly. "If someone is following Derek, and taking pictures of him, that's kind of a big deal."

"You have to admit you've been following him too, Grey. Are you really that freaked out?" Mark asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Fine, but I'm not supposed to be the one in the photos! It's not funny, Mark. I checked my doors and windows three times before I went to bed, and even then I didn't sleep very well. I've never been this close to someone I'm writing about, maybe it's not a good idea. If Derek's got someone after him, what if I become collateral damage?"

"I told you, just come and stay with me for a while. I'll protect you."

"Thanks but no thanks. Cristina was right, I need to sign up for those self-defense classes with her." Meredith crossed her legs, and her foot jiggled the sandal free in her agitation. In fact, she had discussed the photo with Cristina last night, when she hadn't been able to sleep. As always, Cristina had been practical, telling Meredith to stay away from Derek if that would make her feel better. And in theory, Meredith realized it was good advice, even if she wasn't sure she could follow it. After ending her conversation, Meredith had tossed and turned in bed, wondering what to do. All of her searches on him had turned up nothing, yet she sensed there was definitely something underneath that smooth facade of his. The intimacies they had shared only served to fuel her desire for more, but was she just setting herself up for trouble by seeing him again?

"What is it, Grey?" Mark asked, after she'd been silent for awhile. "Thinking about kneeing someone in the crotch again?"

"Derek invited me to dinner at Ravish tonight, maybe I should cancel," she sighed.

"Are you kidding me? This is the best opportunity you could ask for! Besides, you'll be out in public, what can go wrong?"

"What happened to protecting me?"

"Seriously, Meredith, you're the strongest woman I know," Mark told her truthfully. "I have no doubt you'll be able to have Shepherd wrapped around your little finger. Obviously he's interested in you, or he wouldn't ask you there. And, on the other hand, he seems like the kind of guy who would look out for you, if the situation warranted it. He has that look about him."

Meredith nodded slowly. "I suppose you're right."

"Besides, if he's invited you on a date, you won't be charging dinner on your expense account," Mark grinned.

"You're impossible. Here I am, telling you my fears, and you're worried about the expenses!" Meredith said, getting to her feet in exasperation. She snatched the photo out of his hands. "Thanks for the pep talk, boss!"

"That's what I'm here for! Just keep your cell phone charged up so you can call for back up if you need anything!"

Meredith didn't bother with an answer, just raised her hand with her middle finger raised as she stormed out of office.

Derek studied the small painting again, as if he could find a clue to Gareth's death hidden in the picture. Between the blackmail, the life insurance policy, and Gareth's supposed girlfriend, it was starting to make him extremely uneasy. There were several people in his past that would love to see him brought down, but none of them knew his real name. He had always been careful to keep his true identity a secret, using aliases and making sure to keep his face covered if he had to meet with a buyer. Only a few trusted friends knew the truth, and he was quite sure they wouldn't betray him…would they?

"Damnit!" he muttered, pushing back in his chair. He glanced at his watch, realizing that it was almost time to meet Meredith. While part of him wondered if she'd turned up anything on Callie, he realized he was looking forward to just seeing her again. With that thought in mind, he locked the painting away again, and went to confer with the staff to make sure everything was ready for the evening's business.

Meredith paused briefly at the ornate front door to Ravish, before taking a deep breath and stepping inside. She had managed to conquer her fit of uncertainty, and planned to do her best to draw Derek out with some questions. She had managed to slip past the few other reporters that were loitering around the doorway, hoping to catch a glimpse of Derek. As if he would be going out that way, she thought, rolling her eyes.

"Do you have a reservation…?" The hostess that presided over the entrance raised one elegantly groomed eyebrow at Meredith, before looking down at the sleek Apple iPad in her hands. "Ms…?"

"Grey, Meredith Grey…I'm not sure if…"

"Ah, yes of course, Ms. Grey. Mr. Shepherd told me to show you right in." This time Meredith was given a much warmer smile, before the woman ushered her into the restaurant. It was busy, but the conversation was a subdued hum in the background and waiters moved efficiently between the tables. It was all understated and elegant, and she was looking forward to the meal. She really hadn't taken the time to appreciate the surroundings the last time she'd been there; her focus had been on the man, not the setting. And the short time in the lounge hadn't given her the full impact of it all.

"Here we are," the hostess said, indicating a small table tucked away discreetly, close to the fireplace that dominated the room. The restaurant was designed in such a way that it gave privacy to the diners; something that she realized was a good thing in this case. "Mr. Shepherd will be joining you as soon as he can. He's selected a bottle of wine for your meal, and instructed me to bring you whatever you might want as a cocktail."

"Oh, well he's certainly thoughtful, isn't he?"

"He certainly is."

"I'll have a vodka tonic with a twist of lime, please," Meredith decided, thinking that a shot of tequila might not be the cocktail of choice.

"Be right back." The hostess swiveled in her dainty shoes, and walked away quickly. Meredith settled back in the chair, wondering how long it would before Derek made an appearance. She glanced at her watch, wondering how long it would be before Derek was able to see her.

It was barely a couple of minutes later when a glass was set in front of her, and she raised her eyes to thank the hostess. Instead, she met Derek's intense blue gaze. "Your drink, Ms Grey," he said softly.

"Oh, thank you! I wasn't expecting you so quickly, or for you to be serving my drink."

"I'm extremely punctual, and I do my best to keep the customers happy," he confessed, taking the chair across from her, setting his own glass of Scotch down, and smoothing his tie into place. "I wasn't entirely sure you would show up."

"I wasn't entirely sure I would be here either, but I don't turn down an offer of dinner, especially somewhere this lovely."

"You look just as lovely," he commented with a little smile.

"Oh god, does that line usually work for you?" she laughed.

"Usually," he admitted. "I'm hoping to get off to a better start with you, Ms Grey."

"Seriously, we're alone here, I think you can forego the formality." Meredith raised her glass towards him, before taking a sip. "After all, you've seen me naked."

"Since you put it that way..." Derek smiled, raising his glass as well and observing her over the rim suggestively.

"You're picturing that right now, aren't you?"

"Only since you brought it up."

Shaking her head at him, Meredith tried to bring the conversation back to him. "I do appreciate the invitation to dinner, Derek. This really is a fantastic place. You must be very proud of what you've accomplished."

"It's what I dreamed of for a long time, and I love it."

"It shows," she smiled at him, noting the way his eyes lit up as he glanced around the busy room. Even though he was with her, she could tell he was still watching what was going on, noting every detail. "Your brother wasn't interested in joining you in this?"

"No, Gareth had other…interests…" Derek said, not elaborating.

Meredith nodded, thinking of Gareth's criminal record. "Interests that included theft and larceny?"

"I realize you've got the sordid criminal details. He was a troubled young man, despite my best efforts to reform him," Derek said. "He was spoiled from an early age."

"Your mother left you both some money, but you didn't come from a wealthy background did you?"

"Meredith, much as I think you'd like to paint a difficult background for us, so to speak, we had a relatively normal childhood. But I'm not really in the mood to discuss that," he told her, finishing his drink and setting the glass down decisively "I'd much rather discuss you." He looked at her, his eyes taking in the black dress that hugged her curves, and her hair that fell over her shoulders. There was a delicate chain around her neck with a small diamond heart glittering against her skin.

"That's not part of my job."

"Are you working right now? Do I need to check you for a wire?"

"I'm not recording this, trust me."

"Oh, but it would be my pleasure to search you. As I recall, there's not much between the dress and your skin," he said softly, his eyes glinting with the memory of her body.

"I didn't come here to seduce you this time."

"Ah, then I'm disappointed."

"Have you been drinking? I thought you wouldn't be inclined to flirt tonight."

Derek shrugged lightly. "I told you before, I'm a realist, Meredith. I'm still here, and life goes on. But I did promise you dinner, so what are you hungry for?"

For a second, Meredith hesitated, thinking of hungers that had nothing to do with food. Did every conversation with him seem to shift into sexual innuendo, or was that just her imagination? From the look in his eyes, she didn't think so. "I'm not fussy, whatever you can recommend…it's your restaurant after all," she said, smiling a little.

"So you're not limited to a diet of salad?"

"Not so much. I love to eat, but then I have to work out like a fiend," she confessed, raising her glass. "And I usually drink tequila, which isn't really good for me either. But we all have our bad habits, I suppose."

"We do." Derek raised his hand to signal the waiter over, quietly instructing what he wanted for the meal, along with the wine that he'd picked out earlier. "And a shot of the Patron Silver and another of these…" He indicated his own empty glass.

"You didn't need to order the tequila," Meredith said, raising her eyebrow at him.

"It's what you wanted."

"Thank you."

"Consider it part of my debt payback," he said, giving her a slight smile.

"Are you always so conscientious?"

"I try my best."

"So tell me about Gareth…" she suggested, trying to bring the conversation back to the topic she was interested in. "Even if you are moving on with life, it still must be a shock."

"Meredith, we weren't that close. He may have been family, but we had our separate lives for many years. Do you have any family like that?"

"I'm an only child, my mother died a few years ago, and my father was out of my life early on," Meredith explained quietly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, really. My mother was kind of work obsessed, and I basically raised myself."

"So what made you decide to become a reporter?"

"I'm not sure; I've always been interested in other people, their stories, and their lives. Of course, most of the stuff I write is not that serious."

"Until this time," Derek said, raising his eyebrow.

"True. You have to admit, it has all the elements of a big story. Don't try to tell me you don't know that."

"I realize that, even though I don't like it."

Their drinks arrived and he lifted his glass towards her. "It's been a helluva week, let's hope for a swift end to all of this."

Meredith touched her shot glass to his glass. "Much as I sympathize, I don't think you're going to get your wish. They don't have a suspect, from what I know. That means Hunt is going to focus on you even more. If you can think of anyone that might have had a motive, you have to tell him. Like whoever you wanted me to look for at the cemetery…?"

Derek swirled the smoky Scotch in his glass quietly for a moment, and she wondered if he was going to answer her or not.

"I thought we were going to focus on you, and you've managed to turn it back on me," he said finally.

"It's what I do," she reminded him. As their appetizers arrived, along with the bottle of wine, she wondered whether or not to mention the photo. Derek waved the waiter away, taking the corkscrew in hand himself to open the bottle. She watched him expertly uncork it, and set it aside to breathe. "You do that very well, have you always been interested in the restaurant business?"

'Like I said before, it was my dream for many years. And I've worked hard to achieve it."

"Of course, that's right. But you have to realize I've done some checking into your background, and the fact is you didn't inherit enough to make all of this a reality. As a matter of fact, your background is rather mysterious. How did you make your money, Derek?" Meredith speared a succulent shrimp from her plate, waiting for his answer. Again, he didn't speak right away, preferring to pour some of the wine into his glass to taste it. As he swirled the dark red wine, she put the shrimp against her lips, teasing her tongue over the creamy garlic sauce. Her eyes caught his, as they exchanged a slow sensual look.

"How I made my money is none of your business, Meredith," he said slowly, watching her tongue slide along the shrimp, before she bit down on it. "I may have done some things I'm not proud of in my life, but I didn't kill my brother."

Meredith savored the delicate shrimp for a moment. "I didn't accuse you of that, did I?"

"Not tonight, but it's there, in your eyes. You still don't trust me, do you?"

"You did tell me not to, as I recall."

"Touché," he said, pouring some of the wine into both their glasses. "So tell me, what made you dig more into my background?"

Meredith shrugged lightly. "I may have had an anonymous source make some suggestions..."

"What?" Derek's eyes flashed in sudden concern. "When was this?"

Before Meredith could reply, his cell phone interrupted them, and he pulled it out of his pocket to check the call display. "Excuse me, I should take this," he muttered, getting to his feet. She watched him walk away, and she was struck again by the way he moved without wasting effort. She took a sip of wine, and closed her eyes in appreciation at the smooth rich taste on her tongue. If nothing else, the drinks were excellent, she mused.

"Richard, did you find out anything?" Derek asked, as soon as he was alone in his office.

"Nothing yet, I have a few inquiries out, I'm sure something will turn up soon. I was just calling to see how you were holding up."

"Well enough, I'm having dinner with Meredith Grey, the reporter from the Seattle Enquirer."

"Interesting dinner companion, Derek. I thought you wouldn't want anything to do with her."

"Well, she has a way of getting around my defenses," Derek admitted dryly. "I appreciate your call, and what you're doing. Just be careful. I don't know who is behind the blackmail and he's obviously dangerous."

"I'm the soul of discretion, you can count on me. Now I'll let you get back to your dinner. Maybe I should tell you to be careful, as well…Ms Grey can be just as dangerous with her pen."

"And I'm well aware of that. Talk to you soon."

Derek slid his phone into his pocket, and stepped out of his office. The kitchen was running smoothly, and there didn't appear to be any problems in the bar, so he started towards Meredith. He was intercepted by the hostess, who was carrying an envelope in her hand. His pulse jumped, recognizing the small square.

"Sorry to bother you, but this was just dropped off for you. I was told it was very urgent, and to give it to you immediately."

"Who gave this to you?" he asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Just a guy…"

"Did he leave?" Derek was already moving quickly towards the entrance, where several dinner patrons were still coming in.

"Yes, why?"

Derek made his way through the group, but he was waylaid by a few people that wanted to gush about how much they loved the restaurant. By the time he was able to look outside, there was no sign of anyone who might have left the envelope. "Damnit…" he frowned, heading back inside.

"Is everything all right?" Alicia, the hostess, inquired as he strode past her.

"It's fine, just hoped to find the guy who left that. If anyone leaves a note again, please make sure they wait for me to speak to them, all right?"

"Sure, I'm sorry…"

"Not your fault." Derek smiled slightly to reassure her. He ripped the envelope open as he walked, and scanned the note inside.

Hope you have a nice meal with that pretty reporter, Derek. She doesn't seem like your usual type...she's smart and she's determined to find out the truth.

Meredith looked up as Derek slid into the chair opposite her. His expression seemed a little more distant than when he'd left her. "Is everything all right?"

"Just dealing with a few things," he replied, his voice cooler than before as well.

"Don't try to fool me, Derek. I'm a reporter, remember?" she reminded him quietly. "Something's happened to make you freaked out. Something similar to the other night when I was here. Are you going to tell me what's going on, or not?"

"I'm not about to share my problems with you. I don't want to see them spread out on the front page," he said shortly. He grabbed his drink, and swallowed the rest of the Scotch in one gulp.

Meredith looked at his fingers that clutched the glass, the same fingers that had caressed her before. She had a sudden vivid remembrance of being with him, of how he had felt on top of her, inside of her, and she shifted in her chair. She wanted to be there again, spread apart beneath him, as he thrust in and out of her so slowly that she shook from the feeling. It was all wrong, she wanted his touch too damn much; she should know better. "Fine, then I should go, because this is just not getting us anywhere," she managed to tell him softly.

"Fine…go…" he agreed. "This isn't a good idea."

"What isn't a good idea? Being with me? Or wanting to share your problems with me?" she asked. "I can help you."

"Meredith, the only way you can help me is to be naked in my bed," he said, taking her hand. "I told you, my relationships are based on sex, pure and simple. I'm not in the mood to discuss my problems, or try to convince you of my innocence. We had a good time before, why not continue like that?" His tone was persuasive and predatory and her body responded despite herself. "I'm being honest with you about that, I hope you can accept the situation."

"And if I get up and walk away?"

"Then I accept it. But I hope you don't."

The waiter arrived with their meals, and she took the moment to pull herself together. Despite her misgivings, she knew damn well she wasn't about to get up and walk away from him. The pull of seduction between them was far too strong for that to happen. When they were alone again, Derek looked at her, waiting for her answer.

"Just one question…" she started, and his eyebrow lifted. "Can we finish dinner first?" The plate of food in front of her looked absolutely mouthwatering.

For a second Derek stared at her silently, before breaking into a soft laugh. "Of course, I'd hate for you to starve."

"Or offend your chef if we sent this back uneaten," she added, picking up her fork.

"God forbid, he's a diva as it is; he would be impossible to deal with," Derek agreed. He took his wine glass and drank some of it before he took his fork as well. At least they could enjoy the meal, and then he would consider what to tell her once they were alone, or maybe there wouldn't be any conversation at all…