A/N: Two things. Number one, I'd just like to thank Nina for their comments recently :) and number two, a Guest asked about what was going on with Silence (which is my 12x09 AU fic based in the world of Organ Damage). Love was supposed to be 3 chapters long and a short break from writing Silence and Award, but now we're here. You guys loved it and I love writing it too. I finished school yesterday so I should have more time on my hands, so I need to co-ordinate a plan for my current 3 WIP fics. Not a very helpful update but I'll try and sort them out as soon as I can.

As always, enjoy :)


"So what colours do you have?" Meredith asked as she peered into the closet. Only the bottom two shelves were filled with clothes, seeing as he couldn't really reach the top shelf. However, the clothes bar was still in use despite its high height.

"Um- blue, black and grey."

"Right." She smiled. "So lots of variation."

He smiled back. "Which one first?"

"Oh, definitely the blue. A hundred percent." She grabbed the trousers and matching suit. They were a medium-dark blue, and very similar to the colour of her dress. Hers was darker, but they were of the same saturation so she imagined the colours would be complimentary. "You're not even going to try the others."

He looked at her from the cupboard with creased eyebrows at her certainty. "Why definitely the blue?"

"Always go with blue; it brings out your eyes."

"You're wearing blue. Shouldn't you be wearing green to bring out your eyes? Or is that not how it works?"

"Probably. But this just means I'm helping you out." Meredith said with a smile. "Although I'm not quite sure why I'm doing that; you don't really need any help looking handsome."

"You're going to have to keep a straight face."

Meredith picked up his trousers off of the floor. "I know. Now- trousers."

He nodded, and grabbed them off of her.

"We could tell people, you know?" She suggested. "If you wanted to, we could."

"You'd be okay with that?"

She smiled. "Of course. That depends on you."

"I'm still not sure I want to. But the fact that you would be okay with that makes me..." He beamed. "So very happy."

"And some fancy shoes?" She asked.

"At the bottom of the cupboard."

She nodded and pulled them out. "Only one pair?"

"Same pair I owned years ago." He observed. Most people probably owned five identicalpairs because the first four pairs hadn't been thrown away yet. That didn't apply to him. "Do I look like the sort of person who needs lots of shoes?"

She rolled her eyes, and placed his shoes on the bed next to him.

She crouched, and placed each foot into a shoe. It was just easier for her to do it over him. Once she finished and looked up to him, she smiled.

He didn't smile back. He didn't do anything, except stare at her.

She stood. "You okay?"

"How are you just so..."

"So?" She pushed, intrigued to know the end of the sentence.

"You just don't care. I mean- in a good way, of course but-" He swallowed. "You really don't care?"

"Why would I care?" She asked with a shrug.

"Because this is an interabled relationship and-"

"Technically-" She interrupted before looking down at her boot. "It's not."

He smiled at her joke, despite that fact that if it was in the context of someone taking the last available parking space there would be shouting, not smiling. "Okay. Fine. But...Meredith, you're aware of the fact that you just had sex with a guy who can't walk?"

"No." She breathed, mouth agape. "Really? Oh, gosh darn! I wouldn't have done it if you'd told me before! How dare you keep this important information from me?"

He chuckled before stopping to push her, "Seriously, Meredith."

"Fine. If you want serious...then I'm aware, obviously, believe it or not, that you cannot walk...and I still don't give a care in the world because you, Derek Shepherd, are the most amazing guy in the world, even with your terrible self-esteem and stupid overthinking." He kissed her. "Now, you need to put your tie back on."

"Oh, crap."

"What?" She asked as she held out the tie. The untied tie.

"I can't tie ties."

"You can't tie ties?" She asked. "How don't you know how to tie a tie?"

"No- I mean, I can tie ties but they just never look good." He said while he made his best attempt. When he pulled the tie up to his neck, he found that it was far too long.

She giggled. "You're a neurosurgeon; how are you that bad at tying a tie?"

"You're thirty-five,andyou're a neurosurgeon. How are youthatbad at tying ties?"

"You know, you're the second person to say that to me today."

"Well, I hav-" She said with a smile, only to pause when her phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse, and he very quickly saw her smile fade.

"Need to get that?" He pondered. What he really wanted to ask was if she was okay, but he was intrigued to know the answer to this question too.

She shook her head. "All good." She placed it back into her purse, despite the fact that it was still ringing.

"Not going to answer it or decline it?"

"Then they think your phone is dead or that you're just not nearby." She exclaimed with a brief smile.

"I sure hope you don't do that to me."

She kissed him. "Never."


"Can you do my tie again?"

"Why do you need me to-" Mark paused when he finished turning around in his seat to look at his friend. "Oh. Fucking hell."

"What?" He asked innocently.

"What do you mean what?" Mark exclaimed.

"I don't know what you're-"

"Oh, you don't know what I'm on about?" Mark asked, assuming the rest of his sentence. "Come off it. You screwed her."

"I did what who?" Derek asked.

"You just had sex with your girlfriend." Mark explained, although he knew Derek was just playing dumb. From the suppressed face he was making with a straight line smile, he could tell. He might as well have just written the words 'I just got some' across his forehead with a pen.

He maintained it for a moment before breaking into a smile so large that it almost forced his eyes completely shut.

"Congrats dude!" Mark patted him on the shoulder in a manly, brotherly kind of way.

"Um- thanks?" He said awkwardly. He wasn't sure it was the kind of thing he was supposed to say thanks to or not really.

"Was it good?"

"It um-" He couldn't.

"On a scale of one to five, how amazing was it?"

He smiled and held out both hands.

"I said one to five, not one to ten." Mark reminded him.

His beam expanded. "I know. It was just a ten out of five."

"Well that requires a celebratory drink."

"You know I don't drink."

"You don't have a girlfriend nor have sex either though, do you?" He said with a wink. "Scotch, right?"


"Hey!" Cristina exclaimed when her drink was ripped out of her hand. She turned around to see Meredith. "What the hell?"

She paused before she drank it. "Vodka?"

Cristina's eyebrows creased. "What was it going to be?"

"Need water." She sighed and handed the tequila back over, then left.

The quartet watched the woman walk away, get a drink of water from the bar and then return.

"What?" She asked.

"Thirsty, eh?" Alex asked.

She faltered. Crap.

"For water." He continued. "Specifically."

"Alex-" She sighed.

"So, he must have been good then, huh?" Izzie asked with a smirk.

"If you have to know...yes. It was incredible."

"Even with the thing?" Cristina asked.

"What thing? Do you know who Meredith is dating?" George asked.

"You told Cristina but not me?" Izzie asked.

"Cristina found out by accident. Kind of."

"But the thing?"

"No. I didn't even think about the thing. Well- obviously, I mean I had to consider it, but..." She sighed. "I thought it might suck, I'm not going to lie. But...it was freaking incredible."


Meredith frowned at the door, like that would help. It wasn't like the block of wood was going to ask her what was wrong and let her in once she explained.

She pounded on it this time, instead of knocking simply. "Derek?"

Nothing.

She sighed, and reached into her bag to find the key. She was half expecting the door to open the second she found the key - because that's how it always worked - but it didn't. She put the key to the lock, and it still didn't open. She opened it and, still, no Derek.

How odd.

"Derek?" She called again. She was sure he was home. Where else would he be at six in the morning?

While Derek didn't reply, Lucky did. Meredith heard the clatter of feet as she came running out of the bedroom, then up to Meredith.

"Hey-" She greeted as she crouched. "Where's your doggie dad gone? Huh?"

At that, she turned around and headed back towards the bedroom. She paused by the door, as if she was checking whether Meredith would follow.

She did, and kept following her even as she headed to the bathroom, pushing the door open with her nose.

"Oh." Meredith breathed as the door swung far open enough for her to find her boyfriend, who was sat next to the toilet with his head over the bowl.

"Sick." He muttered. "Sorry."

"God." She sighed as she walked in a crouched next to him. His skin was pale, and some areas of his skin had gained a slight sheen from his sweat. "Symptoms other than the vomiting?"

"Headache." Derek replied, rubbing his face with his hands. "Think it's a migraine. I used to get a lot of migraines. But-"

"But?" Meredith pushed.

"Doesn't feel like a migraine. I don't know how to describe what one does feel like but...not like this."

She didn't speak for a second, pondering other possibilities.

"Any ideas Dr Grey?"

"Thinking." She said with a smile at the way he had a addressed her. Then the smile faded. "How much did you drink last night?"

He looked up from the toilet bowl. "What?"

"Alcohol."

"Like three shots of whiskey."

She pulled a peculiar expression which he couldn't quite decipher.

"What?"

The straight line drawn across her face became a smile, and then she giggled. She couldn't help it. If she was honest, it was kind of cute to find a neurosurgeon - an disputable genius, considering how complicated the speciality was - so clueless.

"Don't laugh at me!" He begged.

"I'm not laughing."

"Then don't smile knowingly then!" He corrected.

"You're hungover, Derek."

"What?"

"Hungover." She repeated.

"Three shots of whiskey isn't enough to give someone a hangover."

"You haven't drank in like 2 years, and you told me you never drank that much before either. I wouldn't be surprised if you had a low tolerance to alcohol."

"Oh my god." He sighed, looking up at her with dread before admitting, "I'm hungover."

She giggled again before confirming, "You're hungover."


"You were quiet yesterday." Meredith observed as she sat up from Derek's cuddle. They'd spent prom night apart, but Meredith had been there for breakfast, dinner and the night the day after. He seemed off, and she didn't need to be told why.

He smiled weakly. "Mmm."

"And it's not because you were hungover for the first time in a billion years."

He swallowed.

"Am I going to have to do it again?" She asked with a sigh.

"Do what again?"

"You spent the whole day worrying about how it went. Because of your scars and your atrophy and your paralysis and your blah, blah, blah, insert more irrational thoughts. Even though I told you a million times, you're still worried because you're an idiot."

He swallowed.

"I'm right...right?" She asked, suddenly worried she'd got it all wrong.

"So you talked to Mark then?" He concluded. He, of course, talked to Mark for quite a while about it all. Well, not all of it, obviously; Mark was good enough with the girls not to need any details.

"Nope."

"Then-" He tried, only to be interrupted.

"How do I know what you're thinking?" She suggested. "Because I've been in love with you for four months and that means I know you, Derek Shepherd. That means I hear and memorise every word that you say, that I pay attention to everything you do, that I understand your feelings, that I know what one smile means and what another one means and- I know what you don't like about yourself. But, I'm going to be honest, I'm still not sure why you don't like those things about yourself. Because I love them. I love everything about you."

"Not everything."

She smiled. "No, Derek, I do love absolutely everything about you. And I'm going to prove it to you. But first you've got to take your shirt off."