Meredith Grey was a terrible, terrible dancer. She'd been put in ballet at 3 (mainly because it was at a good time for her mother's work schedule) and attempted the art form for two whole years. By the end, she could barely even spin in a single circle. Over the years, she hadn't got much better. Actually, she'd got worse.

But that didn't mean Derek Shepherd didn't sit, watching his girlfriend with a grin on his face.

Until she stopped dancing, and practically limped over to their table.

"You okay?" He asked the second she got near enough to him for him to be in her earshot.

She sighed as she collapsed into her seat. "In pain."

"Pain?" He repeated. "What happened? Why are you in pain?"

"High heels happened-" She muttered. "Last time I wore these- any heels, even, was like a year ago- I forgot how much they suck."

He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." She shrugged, although she knew he meant it in a sympathetic way.

"I'd love to say more but obviously I've never worn heels so I don't really know how it works or what it feels like. Also I-" He paused, and his brows creased.

"What?" She asked at his silence.

"Have my shoes." He offered simply; he wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of that before.

"Your shoes?"

"Well, I don't need them, do I?" He asked with a small smile. "Then you can go back to enjoying yourself without the pain of your heels."

"Oh. Are...are you sure?"

"I really don't need them. You know that."

She smiled, and removed his shoes. She had no need to undo the laces, since he never did them up that tight. Shoes were only really a part of his appearance; they had no functional value to him. "Do they smell?"

"No, they don't smell-" He reassured her through a chuckle.

"Just checking." She replied as she slipped them both on, pulling the laces as tight as possible so her rather small feet could fit into his shoes.

"You're so mean to me, you know that?"

"I know." She said with a smile, before picking up her heels. "Your turn!"

"What do you-"

Really?

Really?

"Meredith-" He sighed as she grabbed the next one.

"This is what couples do."

"This is not what couples do."

"Your woman is in pain from walking or dancing in high heels, you offer your shoes so that she can walk without your brain hurting from all the complaining-"

"And you put the high heels in your bag, because the guy in the chair has literally zero need for shoes. Especially not-" He looked down at his feet...at what Meredith had done. "Especially not these."

"I think you look wonderful." Meredith said with a broad smile as she sat back up, but kept her eyes on his shoes. His high heels.

"I don't think I look wonderful." He returned simply.

"You suit high heels, you should wear them more often."

"I do not suit high heels. I do not like high heels. And I don't even need shoes in my life." He returned.

"Take them off then. I'm not stopping you."

He looked at her suspiciously for a second before grasping for the bottom of his pant leg, lifting his leg, and laying it over the other so he could examine the shoe. "Uh-"

She giggled. She couldn't help it.

Male fashion was easy. Zips for hoodies, jeans and jackets. Simple buckles for belts. Buttons for shirts.

Female fashion...was weird as hell. He'd demonstrated his total and utter lack of knowledge when he was talking to Meredith near the alter earlier today, where he totally failed to compliment her.

"How do I undo this thingmabob?" He asked as he poked at it.

"I'm not sure." She lied.

"Meredith, I need to undo it to get my foot out of the shoe."

"I know." She said with a smile before standing. "I'm going to go and dance now."

"Mer-" He warned.

"Bye bye Derek, enjoy your shoes!"

"Meredith!"

"Ex-coose me-" A small voice called. "Coose me!"

Derek looked to the sound of the voice, and was very surprised when he found the owner of said voice looking right at him. "Oh- hi."

"Is dere more orange juice?"

He smiled at the small girl. "Are you allowed more orange juice?"

"Daddy said Mommy is allowed to drink lots tonight, so I think I can too, and I want more orange juice."

Derek smirked, but just about managed to hold in a laugh. She clearly didn't know the different between 'drinking', and 'drinking', which, of course, made sense considering that fact she was probably about five. "Right. Well, do you not want to find your mom so she can get you some juice?"

"No, Mommy is too busy dancing-" She said before gesturing to a woman in red, who was...well, it looked more like some kind of ritual than a dance. She'd definitely taken her husband's offer of a few more drinks.

"Right." He agreed. "I will get you some orange juice then, of course. We'll have to go a little hunt though."

She smiled. "Me guide the way!" She exclaimed as she hurried off.

He smiled back at her enthusiasm before following her. Luckily, she went around the dance floor.

Surprisingly, they actually ended up in the kitchen when he followed her through a door.

"Orange juice please." She repeated.

"Oh, yes. I remember." He said as he pulled the fridge open.

"What is dis?"

He looked back to her. "What is what?"

Her finger poked the front rigging of his chair. "Dis."

"Oh, right." He said. He expected that, but for some reason he was still a little taken aback. "So a few years ago, I was hurt in an accident and it was pretty bad. In this accident, I really hurt part of me that I need to walk. So...I use this now. It helps me get around like I used to."

"You can't walk?"

He shook his head.

"How about run?"

He smiled a little, "I can't do anything that involves standing on two feet, I'm afraid."

"So...dis is-" She poked it again. "Because of that? Because you were in accident."

"Mmm mmm. Because there's something that's a little funny going on in my legs, I need something special- something from the doctor to help me out so I can do lots of things that everyone else can do."

She ripped her glasses off, and held them out to him. "Deese!"

"Your...glasses?" He asked, confused.

"Deese!" She exclaimed, waving them about, and doing what he'd call a little dance. It was actually rather adorable, if he was honest.

"Yes, your glasses." He agreed.

"We are the same." She explained. "I need deese, and I go to the doctor- the opmoninst, to see like my friends see- because my eyes are funny!"

He swallowed. God, she was right; there was no difference between them. "Yeah. I...I guess so."

"So you have...leg glasses."

He smiled. "I suppose I do."

"And the colours? I picked the colours, and the circle-ness. Did you pick the colours too?"

"I sure did."

"See!" She exclaimed. She placed her glasses back on her head. "Leg glasses!"

"Well, I-" He paused when the door to the small kitchen area opened.

"Amber! What are you doing here?" The man who entered exclaimed.

"Orange juice, daddy!"

He sighed as he looked from her to Derek. "God, she's dragged you in here for orange juice. I'm so sorry."

"No, no. It's okay. I don't mind."

"This one here-" He scooped her up, and she giggled a little. "-has a little bit of an addiction to orange juice."

"It's quite alright." He dismissed as he held out the cup, and the man took it.

He smiled. "Thanks. I'm Jen's brother-in-law, Adam, by the way. And this is my daughter Amber. My wife, Nina, is-"

"-dancing enthusiastically on the floor; Amber showed me." He finished for him with a knowing look.

He nodded in the same manor. "So- sorry, you are?"

"No relation to the bride nor groom at all, actually. Meredith is my girlfriend, and she was the maid-of-honour, so...um- maid-of-honour-in-law?" He supposed. "Something like that."

"Ah, right. Makes sense." He agreed. "Apologies, again."

"No. Really. It's fine. Now...you're not the only one with a...partying woman to deal with tonight, I better go and check on my Meredith is doing. She's...more a water fan than orange juice."

"Mmm, mine is a fan of grape juice. So...yes, I'd say we'd both better head out now."

"Hey. How are we doing now?" Derek asked as he paused next to her. They'd just about managed to get back to their hotel room, but it was a difficult task when Meredith wasn't sure which way was left and which way was right, and had no sense of perception or spatial awareness, which meant she walked into an awful lot of bins, walls and people in the corridors. "Any better?"

"I think..." Meredith gulped. "Derek, I think we need to talk."

He paused between her and the bathroom that he just left. "About what?"

"Sit here." She instructed, looking briefly to the space next to her on the bed.

He swallowed before following her instructions, silent. What did she want to talk about? Why was she so serious?

"Okay." He breathed. "What is it? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"It's about this afternoon." She explained after a second.

He could feel anxiety radiating from her, and it was making him tense too now. "Did something happen? I thought you enjoyed the party- the wedding. You've seemed pretty happy all day."

"You took your phone with you to the toilet."

"Uh- yeah, I guess I did." He agreed with a shrug; all he'd done is slipped it into his regular compartment on the side of his chair, out of habit.

"Were you doing...oh, god-" Her eyes flooded with tears.

"Mer-" He breathed. She hadn't cried in...ages. They'd been so happy. So, so, so happy. "Mer, what's going on? What's wrong?"

"Are you really doing it?"

"Doing what?" He asked instantly. What the hell was happening?

"You and Jennifer. Are you really cheating on me?"

He felt his heart rate return to normal in a second. "Meredith, no."

"She said she wanted to marry you!" She exclaimed.

He did his best to repress a smile. This is what Meredith was talking about when she said she had some rather strange behaviours when drunk, he assumed. She really did lost her mind, clearly. "I love you, Meredith. Not her. It was a joke, remember?"

"Really?" She asked with wide eyes and a soft, confused voice.

He smiled, just a little, as he engulfed her in his arms. "Really. I'm all yours, forever and ever. I promise. I love you, and I'm never going to stop loving you. You are all I want in the world. Jennifer is nice enough, but nothing compared to you. I pinkie swear, okay?"

She wrapped herself around him too, head buried in his chest. "Mine." She muttered defensively.

He laughed, just once. He couldn't help it. "Yes. I'm all yours."