Thank you to all for the great reviews, and I see that I wasn't the only one who liked Brooks on the show. Her character was quirky and talented, and I always enjoyed her scenes with Derek. Thank goodness for fanfic! I'm glad you were happy with the MerDer focus, and that they were open about their feelings for each other.

Now I have to admit, I've been a little distracted this week - I'm off to Las Vegas next week for a few days of vacation! Which of course means I won't have a chance to have an update for you next week, sorry...! So I hope you enjoy this chapter. Here we find Derek feeling better and trying to get back to dealing with things, but it doesn't quite go as planned. Oh, and some MerDer hotness to keep you going until next time too.

Chapter 17
One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Derek woke up early the next morning, finding Meredith curled against him, and he felt oddly peaceful with that discovery. He glanced at the clock, noting the time, and he took care not to disturb her just yet. For the first time since the concussion, he felt cautiously optimistic that the worst of the after effects of it were gone. There was no pain at his temple, and he felt only a slight stiffness in his muscles from the fight with Richard. It was time to get back to his life, and that meant dealing with Det. Hunt and the fallout from that night. He had avoided it long enough.

Meredith stirred a little beside him, and he tightened his arm around her. Despite everything else going on, he knew that having her in his life was the best thing that could have happened. He just needed to make sure everything worked out so that they could stay together like this. At this point in his life, he didn't need his past coming back to destroy his future.

He trailed his fingers along her skin slowly, just needing to affirm his connection with her. Sleepily she stretched out, and looked up at him out of the corner of her eye. "Hey..." she murmured.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." Derek kissed her temple. "It's still early."

"S'okay. You feel sick?"

"I feel good, no pain, and no nausea."

Meredith moved to rest against his chest. "That's good news. I'm sure Dr. Brooks will be happy to know that when you see her today."

"I don't need to be cleared for duty, Meredith. I'm planning to talk with the lawyers today, I'm not sure how long that will take," Derek sat up, and ran one hand through his hair. "Call her and tell her I'm fine. If I have any symptoms, I'll get in touch with her."

"Typical male reaction," Meredith muttered.

"I've been an invalid long enough. It's time to get back to taking care of my business, and dealing with Richard's betrayal. Having Dr. Brooks shine lights in my eyes, and look at my CT scans isn't going to change anything, Meredith," he explained, rolling over to cover her body with his.

"I'm just worried, Derek. It really hasn't been that long," she sighed, winding her arms around his neck. "Promise me you won't do anything strenuous today."

His mouth quirked into a wicked smile before he spoke. "Ah, so making love to you again is out of the question…? Too strenuous, I suppose." He dropped a light kiss at the hollow of her throat, feeling the pulse beating quicker with her response.

"You're changing the subject…"

"Mmm...not really." He continued to kiss her, moving along her collar bones, and down her chest. He glanced up at her, feeling her little involuntary quiver. "Just proving to you I'm feeling good enough to get back to dealing with things again. Is it working?" Lowering his head again, stroking his tongue around her nipples one by one so that she whimpered softly.

"Yes..." It was all she could manage to say.

He paused for a moment, admiring her, before he snagged a pillow. "Lift up your hips," he urged, sliding it beneath her. "Much better," he breathed, small puffs of warm breath on her moist skin. His lips traveled along the sensitive skin of one inner thigh, to her knee, and back up again. For the briefest second, his tongue flicked across her wet folds, before he went down the other thigh. Meredith moaned again, as her legs fell open even further for him. He kissed, licked and bit lightly at her skin, igniting slow delicious throbbing in her clit. She abandoned herself totally, her world reduced to the feel of his mouth on her. He knew exactly where he wanted to take her, and she followed willingly, as if in a fever dream.

"Oh, oh, my god, oh -" she whispered, not wanting it to end, and he hadn't even touched her clit yet. She melted back against the sheets, and just as she thought it couldn't get any better, he stroked her there, and she nearly screamed out loud. He spread her apart with his thumbs, and concentrated on sucking and pulling, drawing out the pleasure that radiated to every part of her. Her climax began to roll over her, and she tightened and spasmed over and over, as he kept going. With a final soft cry, she went limp and he let her go slowly. He crawled back up her slick body, to kiss her, long and wet and deep, so that she tasted herself on his tongue.

He wanted her again, wanted all of her soft wetness, her sighs of bliss. Easing her leg up around his waist, his arousal ready, he slid into her easily. It was perfect, like no other feeling on earth, as her slickness enveloped him tightly. He indulged himself, pulling out and then thrusting back into her as slowly as he could manage.

Meredith let her hands roam lazily all over him, along his back, and then down between his thighs. He opened his legs wider, and felt her small hand cup his balls, kneading and tugging with delicate fingers. He groaned low in his throat, and bit down on her breast, taking her nipple in his teeth, not even wanting to climax yet. All he wanted was to stay in the hazy limbo, entwined with her, their hips meeting and moving in rhythm. He just wanted it to go on for as long as they could, in utter mindless pleasure. It felt so good and hot and sweet, and her soft little cries of pleasure only increased his own ardor. Capturing her lips, he licked the inside of her mouth, and softly bit her lip, sealing her mouth with his, sealing them together with the same breath.

It was achingly wonderful for Meredith, to feel him inside of her, on her, all over her. She loved the way he felt, all hard, lean muscle moving on top of her, each flex and thrust of his hips pushing deeper into her. His hand slid across her skin, up along her upper body, to rest at the hollow of her throat. He pressed her back against the bed, his palm hot on her skin. It was almost like bondage, and primal dominance, demanding submission. Their gaze locked, his eyes dark and glittering, as he pulled her even tighter against him.

He pressed down from inside of her, and heat flowed through her body. More sweat broke out across her and tremors started deep inside of her. He closed his eyes, and his head went back. Moving against her, he pumped harder and harder, getting her hotter, making her wilder. Her legs tightened around him, and she felt the first pulsing jerk of his release into her. More molten heat filled her, and as he thrust again, she went with him, drowning in ecstasy. It consumed her with pleasure that went to her bones and her soul, as they became part of each other.

A few hours later, Derek was ushered in to see Alex Karev. The defense attorney's office was spacious and well appointed, with large windows that gave an impressive view of Seattle. Addison was already seated in front of the desk, and she smiled at him as he walked in. "You're looking well after your ordeal, Derek," she observed, seeing him wearing one of his usual tailored suits.

"I feel well," he replied, kissing her cheek before taking the other empty chair. Alex's secretary returned with a tray of coffee, of which Derek accepted thankfully. His caffeine intake had been limited during his recovery, and he inhaled the rich aroma gratefully.

"Good, let's get down to business," Alex spoke up, leaning back in his chair and lacing his hands behind his head. "We need to know everything. How the hell did you end up in the hospital with a concussion, and Richard Webber is charged with kidnapping and assault?"

"Not to mention, he claims that you have a painting that belongs to him. Hunt is understandably anxious to speak with you about all of this," Addison said, arching one eyebrow at him. "This hardly sounds like the urbane restaurant owner I've known all along."

Derek adjusted his cuffs, glancing at Addison, before answering. "I've managed to avoid Hunt, thanks to the concussion. My housekeeper is quite adept at keeping people out when she deems it necessary. Now that I'm feeling better, I knew I needed to come and speak with you before things get out of hand."

"You haven't seen the papers then, I take it?" Alex asked.

"I'm sure they are having a field day with the story. Meredith kept me in the loop, but I didn't feel like reading anything."

"Seeing how she was the focus of the story along with you, I understand she has been given a leave of absence from her job at The Enquirer."

"She said she was taking some personal leave," Derek admitted. Mark had been completely understanding, telling her to take as much time as she needed.

"Maybe she should have come in with you today. She's a big part of this, after all."

"She didn't do anything; she was caught in the middle between Richard and me. She's the victim here."

Alex sat up straight in his chair again, and picked up his Mont Blanc pen. "Why don't you start at the beginning, and let me decide what to do next? That is what you're paying me for."

"Of course," Derek agreed, taking a sip of coffee before setting the cup aside. "Without divulging too much of my past, which isn't open for discussion, Richard Webber was trying to frame me for murder," he said calmly. "I've known him for years, and I have no idea what his motive was. The night I realized the extent he was willing to go to, he took Meredith Grey hostage and threatened to hurt her if I didn't turn over a painting that Gareth had stolen. A painting Richard hired him to steal, I might add."

"And what painting would this be?" Alex inquired, without pausing in his note taking.

"A very rare Monet, one that has been rumored to be lost for several years. I believe that Richard enlisted my brother to steal the painting, in exchange for a large amount of cash. But instead of paying him, I think Richard killed him, and then decided to frame me for it, for some twisted reason I can't figure out."

"Richard Webber is a well respected art dealer, why would he want a stolen painting?" Alex asked.

"I believe he was going to have a copy made, a very good forgery, which he would then return to the owner as the real thing, keeping the original for himself. He was allied with Callie Torres, who has her own business making faux artwork. I guess she had a change of heart, since she was the one that knocked him out."

Addison shook her head in disbelief. "Derek, this all sounds incredible."

"I don't recall hearing of any great art theft lately," Alex commented.

"You wouldn't. I'm sure the person who had the painting obtained it illegally to begin with, so he could hardly report it missing. There's more artwork of the great masters in private hands that you realize," Derek said.

"So how did Meredith Grey get involved in this? Hunt indicated that she had been tied up when they found her, and she gave her statement that Webber kidnapped her. You were apparently coming to her rescue and then you passed out from a blow to the head received earlier. Where did that take place?"

"I'd rather not say," Derek hedged, taking another swallow of coffee.

"Whatever you say here is protected by lawyer client privilege. I can't do a proper job of defending you without knowing everything, Derek. Secrets have a nasty way of coming back to bite you in the ass when least expecting it," Alex pointed out. "First rule, tell me everything."

"You know you can trust him," Addison said quietly. "Whatever you're involved in, he'll do his best to defend you, with all of his skills. I wouldn't have brought him to you in jail if I didn't know him to be tenacious." She looked at Alex, and there seemed to be an intimate look pass between them but Derek couldn't be sure.

"If it makes a difference, I've been digging into that life insurance policy." Alex shuffled through papers on his desk. "Here, it was taken out six months ago, showing you as the main beneficiary, just as Hunt told you. However, the premium was set up through a lawyer who made the payment on his client's behalf. Right now, I haven't been able to get the name, but I have someone working on that."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure it was Richard."

"So fill us in, Derek," Addison prompted. "What happened that night?"

Meredith made her way through the cubicle maze that was the Seattle Enquirer, acknowledging a few greetings from the other staff. Mark was on the phone when she peeked into his office, but he waved her inside, quickly ending the call as she settled into the chair.

"What are you doing here, Grey?" he demanded, putting the phone down. "You're supposed to be resting and recuperating from your ordeals."

"I know, I'm just on my way to Seattle Grace to have lunch with Cristina. Thought I'd pop in and say hi."

"Mmm, bored already?"

"Not exactly. I'm just not used to having free time," Meredith admitted. "Derek's feeling better, and he's with the lawyers right now."

"You never did explain what happened the other night. I'm guessing there's more to Shepherd's past than you're willing to tell me."

"Mark, I'm sorry I got you involved, but I didn't know who else to call! I was freaked out, but I really appreciate you helping out like you did."

"Hey, didn't I tell you I'd protect you?" Mark grinned.

"You got there a little late for that."

"But I saved your boyfriend. And I've made sure the articles aren't too inflammatory, most of the focus has been on Webber. I'm dying of curiosity about the damn painting though. You have to admit, being summoned to a house in the middle of the night, into a room where priceless paintings are hanging, and then running off with yet another painting in hand does tend to make a guy ask questions. Especially someone who has reporter's blood in his veins."

"It's not really my story, Mark. But it has to do with Gareth's murder, and Derek's being framed for it. Thank goodness Richard's been arrested, he's the one behind it all."

"Then you haven't heard the news?" Mark asked, raising one eyebrow. "It was just on the news channel, Webber's been released on bail." He indicated the television that was on, the sound muted, in the corner of his office.

"What?" Meredith bolted out of her chair, her hand reaching in her purse for her cell phone. "I've got to tell Derek. What if he comes after him again?"

"I'm sure Hunt knows and will be doing his duty to protect and serve," Mark said dryly. "I'd put money on Webber skipping bail and taking off to Bermuda or Mexico, not hanging around here."

"But he doesn't have his painting," Meredith said quietly. "He's not about to leave Seattle until he settles whatever grudge he's got against Derek."

Mark shook his head. "Then he's got his priorities messed up. I'd be gone in a heartbeat…"

"Well, maybe…but just in case, I'm texting Derek right now. I can meet him over at the lawyer's office."

Derek checked his phone, and quickly read the message from Meredith. "Damnit," he muttered, looking up at Alex. "According to Meredith, Richard's out on bail. Did you know about that?"

"No, what the hell..." Alex frowned, and quickly grabbed his own phone. After speaking with someone, he shook his head and set the phone down. "Yeah, he's out, posted bail this morning. You think he's going to cause more trouble?"

"Oh, I'm pretty certain he will," Derek said, getting to his feet. "Meredith is on her way over here, I'm going to wait for her. I don't like to think that he's out there somewhere scheming to try something else."

"All right, I think we're done here. You've given me good information to work with," Alex said, standing as well to shake Derek's hand. "Trust me, I'm good at what I do, and we'll have this all sorted out soon."

"I hope so." Derek nodded at Addison, and strode briskly out of the office.

By the time Meredith reached the office tower where Karev, Montgomery & Assoc. were located, Derek was waiting outside for her. He was leaning against his Porsche, where it was parked in the curving driveway, arms crossed over his chest. He had his long Burberry trench coat open over his suit, and the wind was ruffling his hair. More than one woman walking by into the building turned to take a second look, but the stormy expression on his face made them hurry along. But when he caught sight of her running towards him, his mouth curved into that smile of his that made her knees go weak and his eyes were warm with concern. He caught her hands, and pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Are you all right?"

"Me? What about you?" Meredith touched his cheek. "How did the meeting go?"

Derek shrugged. "Well enough, but I'm more upset about Richard. He won't sit around waiting for the lawyers to work things out. I want to get that painting into a safe deposit box where he can't get at it. My office safe isn't nearly secure enough to keep him out now that he's desperate."

"Oh god, I never thought about that," Meredith frowned, as he unlocked the car doors and she hurried around to get inside.

Derek slid in beside her, starting the car so that it purred into life. For a moment, she took the time to appreciate the luxurious interior of the vehicle again. "I do love this car, you know," she smirked.

He flashed her a grin before he spun away into traffic. "Once this is all done with, we'll have to take a road trip," he said, before concentrating on making his way towards Ravish. "Did you talk to Dr. Brooks?"

"I did, and she's pissed at you."

"What?"

"Just kidding, but she does want you to come in as soon as your schedule permits. She said sometimes a person feels fine, but a relapse is possible."

"Great. I'll have to see her soon then."

"I'll make sure and go with you. I like her, and Cris says she's one of the best neurosurgeons on the West coast. You're crazy not to see her."

"Mmm, in that case...my brain will be in her hands," Derek conceded, just as they pulled into the parking lot behind the restaurant. They entered the back door, where the kitchen staff was already there, prepping for dinner. Meredith's stomach grumbled despite herself at the wonderful aromas of food. Derek paused for a moment, as the cook caught his eye. "What is it?"

"There was some commotion at the front awhile ago, but I don't know what happened. We were busy back here."

Meredith exchanged a worried glance with Derek, as they continued towards his office. There the door was closed, but not locked, as he normally left it. She could see his jaw clench before he turned the doorknob. "He's been here, hasn't he?" she whispered, and Derek nodded shortly.

"Stay behind me."

For a second, she rolled her eyes, as if Richard would still be here, but she knew Derek didn't want to take any chances right now. He was already pushing into his office, and Meredith gasped at the sight of the shambles that greeted them. Papers were flung over his desk, and several books had been pulled from the small wall unit. A bottle of Scotch had been smashed on the floor, along some heavy crystal glasses; the sharp odor of alcohol tainted the air.

"Oh my god," Meredith whispered. "Derek..."

He shook his head, walking across the room to where a painting had been shoved aside, revealing a wall safe. The door hung open, the contents displaced. A small white envelope was propped up against the back wall of the safe. "He took the painting," Derek muttered, snatching up the envelope. It was the same kind as before. This time the message inside was brief:

The painting is mine. Don't bother looking for me.