36. Appy part 2

When the alarm clock went off, Meredith moaned and burrowed herself as deep as she could into her pillow. She felt horrible; even worse than she had the previous evening. She was hot, despite the fact that the covers had disappeared at some point overnight. Her stomach was still upset. And the abdominal pain had intensified.

She felt Derek stir beside her, and finally the horrible chirping of the alarm ceased. Meredith sighed into her pillow and willed sleep to come again. At least that way she wouldn't be conscious of how crappy she felt.

"Meredith?" Derek's voice called out quietly. And hand fell onto her shoulder. "Mer?" This time his tone was etched with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Nnnn... Crappy," she muttered.

He shifted again and the light came on. She felt sleep falling away from her, leaving her more and more awake. And more and more miserable.

"Stupid flu," she mumbled.

"You're still warm," he remarked, his cool hands moving along her body. "I think you have a fever."

"You're a genius for figuring that out."

He chuckled. "Sorry. Still feeling nauseous with abdominal pain?"

"Mmm," she nodded.

"Do you want to call in sick? You could sleep through the day to feel better for the flight?" They were scheduled to work until five. And their flight left at ten.

It was tempting, but Meredith shook her head. "No." It wasn't fair to call in sick when she was about to take four days off in a row. Plus, she had been sleeping since early the previous afternoon. "I'll go in."

"You sure?"

She rolled onto her back, wincing at the shot of pain it caused. "Yeah. I'll be fine. I bought an extra bottle of Pepto-Bismol. It'll be fine."

But it wasn't fine. Less than an hour into her shift, Meredith's abdominal pain worsened. The previously broad-based discomfort narrowed into her lower abdomen and became sharper. And the nausea was far worse than it had been the previous evening. She had almost been late for rounds, as she had been unwilling to leave the locker room in case she threw up.

"Ugghhhh," she groaned, clutching onto a cart for a moment as she paused in her attempt to keep up with her short legged, but surprisingly quick moving, resident. Her abdomen sent a sharp flare of pain, coupled immediately with the urge to empty her stomach contents. Not that she had much of anything in her stomach. She had refused all of the breakfast items Derek had tried to force on her that morning. Even the coffee; and that said something.

"Woman troubles?" Cristina asked, falling back to wait with her.

Meredith's free hand came to her forehead, disconcerted by the small beads of sweat forming along her brow. "No..." She mumbled forlornly, wishing that was the worst of her problems. "I think I have the flu."

Cristina made a face and held up her hands. "Then don't be coming near me."

With a roll of her eyes, Meredith released her iron grip on the hospital cart, forcing her tired legs to support her full weight. "It may be food poisoning," she offered as she began to walk again, her steps wobbly as she clutched to her stomach. "My glands aren't swollen and I don't feel...flu-ish..."

This seemed to appease her best friend, who closed the gap between them as they sped to catch up with Bailey. "Food poisoning is better than the flu."

"Not when you feel this crappy," Meredith retorted as they caught up to Bailey, George and Alex.

"Dr. Grey," Bailey called back, shooting them both a glare. "Do you and Dr. Yang have something hospital related to discuss with us?"

Meredith groaned and shook her head. "No, Dr. Bailey. Sorry."

Bailey paused for a moment, her gaze dropping to study her intern's awkward stance and right arm that clutched tightly to her lower torso. "You okay, Grey?"

"I'm fine, Dr. Bailey."

She nodded. "Good."

Meredith stayed to the back of the patients' rooms as they completed rounds, for once not wanting to be assigned to a surgical case. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball somewhere quiet and wait out the remaining hours of whatever it was that was attacking her body so viciously. And she really hoped it would stop soon, as she didn't want to be spending the five hour plane ride in the cramped bathroom throwing up.

When they left the room of the last post-op patient, a friendly salesman who had undergone minimally invasive bypass surgery two days prior, Bailey stopped at the nurses' station to review a chart. As her fellow interns came to a stop to wait patiently for their resident to finish, Meredith collapsed onto a free chair, her stomach clenching suddenly.

"Oh, God," she muttered to herself. Still clutching to her abdomen, she bent forward at the waist, and swallowed hard as she willed the nausea to decrease. She was still for several moments, before a soft hand fell into her hair. She didn't have to look up to know who it was.

"You sure you're okay?" Derek's concerned tone reached her ears. She had caught his worried gaze directed towards her more than once that morning as she had gotten dressed and sat uncomfortably across from him at the kitchen table as he had eaten his muesli.

With a deep breath, Meredith sat upright and met his still-worried eyes. "I...don't know." She exhaled harshly. "I just want it to stop."

He offered her an apologetic smile. "I was going to offer to let you scrub in this morning, but now I think maybe you should just lie down..."

"I'm fine," she mumbled. "I don't need to lie down."

He smirked. "And there's the stubborn streak I love."

She grumbled, but said nothing, letting her upper body fall forward once more. His hand found her hair again, trying to offer comfort, but she didn't notice when his fingers stilled suddenly in shock. She also didn't notice Addison walking past them. And she barely noticed that most everyone in the area had stopped what they were doing to stare through the window lining the far edge of the nurses' station. Where Mark Sloan stood with the Chief of Surgery, wearing a crisp white lab coat and a Seattle Grace ID tag.

"Oh. My. God," Derek spoke, but Meredith barely heard him as her stomach rolled in the way that told her she was going to throw up, and soon. She could already taste the tang of bile in the back of her throat.

"Oh, my God," she mumbled, having barely enough time to look down and try her best to avoid throwing up on Derek's shoes.

His attention was immediately back on her, his fingers moving to hold back her hair as he moved his feet out of harms way.

"Grey!" Her intern chastised, suddenly in close proximity. "You said you were fine."

She moaned and shook her head as her stomach rolled again and she fought off the urge to vomit a second time.

"Grey-" Bailey started, but was cut off by a yell from George. And suddenly everyone who had been in the area rushed away from her, leaving Meredith alone on the chair, which was fine by her. She heard the shrill ringing of the fire alarm, and a faint wafting of burning flesh in the air, but couldn't find the strength to stand to help with the crisis.

Moaning to herself, she leaned forward again, still clutching to her abdomen. The pain was still there, deep and sharp, but the nausea was slowly dissipating. Her tongue felt hot and sticky under her palate, and her throat burned. With a haggard breath, Meredith closed her eyes and willed herself to a quiet, comfortable place.

Several minutes went by as she sat there, and when someone did re-approach her, it was Derek, bearing a small plastic cup of water.

"Let's get you away from here," he said quietly, motioning towards the still-present pool of vomit while he helped her to her feet. Once she was up and sturdy he pressed the cup into her hands. "Take a few sips. It's make you feel better."

"Thanks." Meredith took a small sip and sighed in relief as the fluid washed out the bitter acidy taste in her mouth.

He pressed a cool hand to her forehead and frowned. "You're burning up."

"I'm fine."

He offered her a wry smile and shook his head. "You don't look fine. I mean, you look beautiful, but not fine."

Cristina appeared at their sides and grumbled something under her breath. "Now I'm going to throw up."

Meredith felt the corner of her lip twitch upward. "I'm fine," she repeated, catching sight of the Chief and Mark walking past the nurses' station together. "Go, you have surgery to do, and surgeon's to confront. Go," she repeated. He still looked unconvinced. "Really, I'm feeling better now." And she was. The pain was still there, but the nausea was low and controlled.

"Okay," he said with a nod, and turned to Cristina. "Will you look out for her?"

Cristina nodded, albeit while rolling her eyes.

"Okay," Derek said again, reaching to squeeze her hand before turning to chase after the Chief.

Meredith watched him go before following Cristina to lean against the counter of the nurses' station to watch the show.

"Seriously," Cristina muttered. "Did he really think I would miss this?"

Meredith attempted a small smile, but instead focussed her attention on controlling her breathing. The nausea was starting to sweep upwards again. George appeared beside her, and Meredith leaned against him.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, her eyes closed. "I just need a minute."

"You know what? Paying for cable is a waste of money when you work here," Cristina said with a laugh. "Seriously, I get all the entertainment I need." She shook her head. "I had three other offers, but I am so glad I choose Seattle for the weekly soap opera moments alone."

"Shouldn't you be glad you chose Seattle because it led you to Burke?" George asked, still facing the dual ongoing arguments; Addison and Mark at the bottom of the stairs, and Derek and the Chief at the top.

Cristina waved a hand. "I wouldn't have known what I was missing out on in that area. But I think I'd be bored anywhere else."

Meredith tried to follow Cristina and George's conversation. And she tried to follow the arguments before them, especially between Derek and the Chief. Derek didn't deserve this. He didn't need Mark working in the same hospital as him, not when he had moved across the country to get away from the man. But the nausea was swelling once more, leaving her pained and distracted, but grateful everyone's attention was focussed away from her. Lifting her arm, she rested her forearm on George's shoulder as she ran her other hand through her hair, noting how warm her forehead was. This was definitely not food poisoning. George moved to rest a hand on her back, but it didn't help.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked.

"I-"

And suddenly she was shoving her best friend out of the way to throw up in the small garbage pail beside the desk. She coughed and sputtered as the water she had just ingested came gurgling back up, mixed unpleasantly with acid and bile.

"Holy crap!" Cristina exclaimed, catching her balance. "Are you pregnant?"

Knowing her best friend had been far too loud in her guess, Meredith shook her head, and went to back up the gesture with words, but her stomach was already rejecting more of the water. When she finally managed to stand upright again, Derek was right beside her, his hand on her back.

"Grey," her resident said quietly, appearing on her free side.

"I'm not pregnant," Meredith managed to whisper.

Bailey exhaled. "Grey," she said again, her tone indicating she was far from believing.

"She's not," Meredith heard Derek saying. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she gratefully leaned into him. "We've already ruled it out."

"Okay, regardless, let's get her to a room."

Meredith closed her eyes and let Derek lead her down the hallways with Bailey, trusting him to make sure she didn't walk into anything. The nausea was almost gone now, but the pain in her stomach was increasing.

Bailey found her an empty exam room, and Derek carefully helped her onto the bed. She lay down gratefully, and turned onto her side to curl her legs up, trying to make the pain go away.

"Okay, Meredith, what symptoms do you have, other than vomiting and nausea?"

Meredith opened her eyes to meet those of her resident, for once staring back at her with sympathy and clinical attention. "Abdominal pain," she mumbled. "Bad right now. Wasn't so bad last night."

"So, you've had these symptoms since last night?"

"Yesterday morning," Meredith corrected. "Abdomen hurt a bit during my shift. Then I realized I was nauseous when I left. But it wasn't that bad. And then last night the nausea flared up."

"Did you throw up?"

She shook her head.

"And you were still nauseous with abdominal pain this morning?"

This time she nodded.

"Did you sleep through the night?"

"Yeah, I think so." She couldn't remember having woken.

"She tossed and turned a lot," Derek spoke up.

Bailey surveyed him for a quiet moment, contemplating how much she wanted to pry into her attending's personal life. "And that's unusual?"

Derek nodded, a small smile fluttering to his face. "She's usually out like a log. Doesn't move. Doesn't wake up. Oh, and she didn't snore last night, which is also unusual."

Despite her pain, Meredith glared at him. "Shut up," she mumbled.

Derek laughed, and Bailey even cracked a smile.

"Oh, and she has a fever," Derek continued. "She was warm yesterday evening, and progressively tossed all of the covers off over the night. She was still warm this morning, but not this feverish until now."

Bailey nodded. "Is that all?"

Meredith nodded. "I think so." She cringed as a particularly strong wave of pain shot through her. "Can I have some morphine?"

"I'm going to order a full blood work up," Bailey said, motioning for George, who was standing near the doorway with Cristina, to prepare a syringe. "But I would like to confirm that you're not pregnant with a blood test before we give you anything. I'll put a rush on it."

"I took a test," Meredith said. "Two, actually. Both negative. I'm not. I know I'm not, so-"

"Meredith Grey," Bailey said quickly, cutting off her intern. "I am your doctor right now, and this is my call. You will wait until we have a blood test result."

"Fine," Meredith grumbled.

"O'Malley, draw blood and put a rush on it. Let the lab know this is for a staff member; it may make them go faster. And Yang, do an exam. Pinpoint the discomfort. Page me when we have results; I'm going to check on my other patient."

"Discomfort, my ass," Meredith muttered, clutching to her abdomen once more.

000

Once Cristina had completed her exam, she took off to check on her other patients. Derek sat in a chair by Meredith's bedside, holding her hand in one of his, and stroking her hair with the other.

"So, I guess it's not the twenty-four hour thing," Derek offered with a wry smile.

Meredith glared at him. "And the 'saying the obvious' award goes to..."

He laughed. "Sorry."

She sighed and glanced at the wall clock across the room. "Don't you have a morning surgery?"

"Not for another hour. Very routine, I can wait here."

"Derek..."

He smiled his McDreamy smile. "I'm staying here," he said firmly.

"But..."

"This is part of the relationship thing, Meredith. When you're lying in a hospital bed, you don't get to tell me to get back to work. I'm allowed to stay here with you as long as I want." To back up his words, he leaned in to kiss her.

Meredith turned her face away from him. "Don't kiss me," she chastised. "I could get you sick too."

He settled for pressing his lips against the side of her head. "If it's contagious, I'm already infected," he reasoned. "I spent all of last night with you, and with all of the blankets you threw on me..."

"I didn't."

He snorted. "You most certainly did. I woke up at two unable to figure out why it was so freaking hot. And then I realized I had all of my blankets on and all of yours on."

"Hmm, sorry," she offered, but smiled at his choice of words.

He narrowed his eyes and strutted out his chin towards her. "What?"

She smiled, despite her pain. "You said 'freaking.'"

"You're rubbing off on me," he retorted. "I used to have good grammar."

Meredith swatted at him and sighed. "What do you think is wrong with me?" She asked, a sudden wave of vulnerability washing over her. She didn't get sick very often, and she hadn't needed medical attention for anything since she was a child.

A hint of worry crossed his features, but he hid it quickly. "Something fixable," he reassured. "Really," he said to her uncertain expression. "It could still be food poisoning. Or another toxin. A cist. An inflamed appendix. An infection... It'll be something we can deal with. Everything will be fine."

She squeezed his hand. "Okay." He was there beside her, holding her hand, telling her she would be fine, that he would be there with her. And that made it okay. That made the pain and uncertainty bearable.

The door opened behind Derek, and Bailey entered the room, a chart in hand. "I have the first results back, and you were right. You're not pregnant."

Meredith nodded, wondering for the second time in twenty-four hours why there was a lingering sense of disappointment in that knowledge. "Okay. That's...okay. Can I have some morphine now?"

000

"Derek!" A very familiar, and very unwelcome, voice called his name.

Derek shook his head before glaring in the direction of the voice, hoping its owner would get the hint. He didn't.

Mark had never been very good with subtlety.

"I need a consult," Mark spoke, appearing beside Derek and, to Derek's annoyance, sliding a chart on top of the open one in front of Derek.

Derek shoved the nuisance away, trying to focus his attention back to his case notes. He had checked his all of his patients, and this was the last chart he needed to update before he would be free to return to Meredith's bedside. "Go away, Mark."

"I'm just doing my job," Mark said evenly, pushing the chart back towards Derek again. "And I need a consult, so do yours."

Derek shook his head, refusing the urge to turn and glare at his former best friend. "I'm off duty. Get someone else."

"Well, you're here, and I want you."

He scoffed. "And you think you can just get what you want, when you want it, regardless of everybody else. Glad to see you haven't changed," he shot back sarcastically.

"Come on, Derek. It'll just take a minute."

"I told you; I'm off."

"No, you're not," Mark retorted, his even tone raising ever so slightly; a sign that told Derek Mark was beginning to get frustrated. "You have a surgery on the board."

"Not anymore. I got Krycheck to take it. And..." He completed his notes and slammed shut the chart. "Now I'm done for the day." He passed the chart across the counter to a nurse, offering her a terse smile. But when he turned to leave the desk, Mark caught his arm.

"Come on, man."

Derek jerked out of his grip and finally turned his gaze to the man who had, less than a year ago, so easily ignored over thirty years of friendship when he had turned his sights on Derek's wife. "Don't touch me," he hissed, fighting the urge to punch the plastic surgeon. In fact, the only thing stopping him was the promise he had made to Meredith after Mark had shown up in Seattle the first time.

Mark sighed, but stayed out of Derek's personal space. "You don't need to leave for the day because I'm here..."

Derek laughed out loud before he could help it, loud and condescending. "You think far too much of your impact on other people, Mark, and you always have. Me taking the day off has nothing to do with you. Meredith is sick, and I'd rather be with her."

"I noticed you were still with her," Mark said, offering Derek a hint of a smile. "Good for you. How's it going?"

Derek blinked, unable to process the easy-going tone in Mark's voice, as if they had rewound to college. "It's none of your business."

Mark made a face. "Sorry, man. I thought she was good for you."

"She is good for me-" Derek cut himself off. "Me not wanting to discuss my personal life with you doesn't mean things aren't going well."

"So, things are good between you," Mark stated.

Derek made an exasperated noise. "Mark, what the hell are you doing here?"

The plastic surgeon stood up a little straighter. "I work here."

"Exactly my problem. Why? Have you not tortured me enough?"

"I'm not here to..." He trailed off and lowered his voice. "You're my best friend, have been since I can remember."

"Interesting. And did you forget that last year?"

Mark sighed. "Come on, man, I'm trying here."

"Me too. I'm trying to move on with my life and be happy. And that doesn't include having to deal with you everyday." Derek felt his fists clench and he had to work to open his fingers. "Now, doctor Sloan, I have somewhere far more important to be."

And with that, he pushed away from Mark, not looking back as he turned down the hallway towards Meredith's room. They had moved her to a patient room after her results had come back. Nausea, high white count and tenderness over McBurney's point indicated one thing.

"Appendicitis," Meredith had decided, moments after Derek, Cristina and George had answered first, the side effects of the morphine beginning to set in.

"I told you," Derek had said to her, squeezing her hand. "I told you it was something fixable."

She had smiled brightly back at him, her neuronal processes laced with morphine. "You're so smart," she had told him.

Derek had smiled back, shaking his head as the care free attitude took over her body, even as a wave of relief coursed through his.

Cristina was sitting beside Meredith's bed, her attention on the chart in her lap, when Derek entered the room. "Hey," he called out as he came through the door, forcing his lingering annoyance from his conversation with Mark out of his mind. "How's my favourite patient?"

Cristina stood quickly and rolled her eyes as she slid past him, muttering something that sounded faintly like 'gag me,' as she left the room.

Meredith giggled. "I'm not you're patient," she drawled. "Because my problem's in my abd'men, and you fix brains."

He nodded as he sat beside her, biting back a laugh. "You're right," he informed her, smiling at her proud smile to that. "But you're still a patient here, and my favourite, even if you're not mine."

"But I am yours."

"Yes, but not my patient."

"But I'm your girlfriend. I've told you before that I'm yours. In fact, it was last time Mark was here."

Derek nodded. "Yes, you are my girlfriend. And I love that you're my girlfriend."

She made a face. "But you don't love me?"

"Of course I love you," he said quickly. "I love you very much. Why would you think otherwise?"

"Because you said you loved that I was your girlfriend, but not that you loved me."

Derek blinked, wondering suddenly how he had gotten stuck in this conversation from such a simple greeting. "You just didn't let me get that far. I was going to say it next."

"Good," she said with a nod. "Because I love that I'm your girlfriend."

"But you don't love me?" He bantered easily, smirking.

She glared at him. "Of course I love you. Why would you say that?"

He opened his mouth, floundering for something to say. "But you just..." He trailed off, reminding himself she was under the influence of a strong drug; reminding himself not to argue with her in this situation. He would lose, regardless. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know you love me."

"Good," she said. "Cause it's been nine months, Derek. Seriously, you shouldn't be questioning that anymore."

He felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That was my last time, I promise."

"Good," she said again. "Because I'm supposed to be the pathetic one here, Derek, and I haven't questioned it in...a freaking long time."

He smiled warmly. "That's great, Mer. I...wait. Did you just call me pathetic?"

She shrugged. "I just call it how I see it."

Before he could begin to respond to that, Bailey strode into the room. "How's my favourite patient?" She asked, her tone belaying her amusement with the situation.

Meredith beamed. "I'm grrrreat!"

"Oh, sure," Derek muttered. "She doesn't get roped into the Socratic conversation from hell for saying that..."

Meredith ignored him. "Like the lion," she continued. "I feel grrr-reat, like the lion."

Derek furrowed his brow and exchanged a glance with Bailey. "What lion would this be?" He asked cautiously.

Meredith turned to him, incredulous. "Seriously, Derek, do you live under a freaking rock? The lion on the cereal box. Grrrreat!" She repeated loudly.

"I think you mean the tiger, Grey," Bailey corrected with a smirk.

"Lion. Tiger. Same thing." Meredith waved her hand dismissively.

"Whatever you say," Derek placated.

"Anyway," Bailey spoke. "I'm glad you're feeling great, because-"

"Not great," Meredith cut in. "Grrrreat!"

"Grey-"

"Grrrrreat!" Meredith repeated. "Come on, say it, doctor Bailey. It's fun. Grrrrreat!"

Derek choked back a laugh.

"Grey, I am not repeating something a cartoon character says. I'm a surgeon."

"Fine." Meredith huffed and crossed her arms.

"What I was about to tell you was we're going to have to wait a few hours for an OR to clear up. We'll make sure you have enough morphine to keep you comfortable-"

"Maybe a little less morphine than she has now," Derek joked.

Bailey glared at him. "Shepherd, if you're in this room, you do so as a visitor, and not as a doctor. I am her doctor, and I am in charge of making decisions."

Derek stammered for a moment. "I know that. I respect that. I was just trying to make a joke, because she's a little loopy..."

Meredith scoffed. "I am not. I'm perfectly fine. It's you all who are loopy. Everyone is being weird today."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "See what I mean?"

"As a comment from my patient's visitor, I will keep that in mind. But pain control is our primary objective."

"He's not a visitor," Meredith spoke up. "He works here," she reminded, as if truly believing Bailey had forgotten. "He's a neurosurgeon."

"I am quite aware of that Grey. But he is not your doctor."

She nodded emphatically. "I know. That's what I was trying to tell him before you came in. He seemed to think I was."

"I did not."

Meredith ignored him. "But he is a doctor here."

"Yes, but in this case you are the patient, and Derek is welcome to stay with you as a friend or family member only. Not as a doctor."

"Family member," Meredith said quickly.

"Excuse me?"

"Friend or family member," Meredith prompted. "You asked which he was." She reached for Derek's hand. "And he's my family."

Despite the drugs he knew were coursing through her system, Derek felt his heart tighten. She was his family too.

"Oh, and speaking of family," she continued, her attention solely on her resident. "You better make sure we get an OR soon, 'cause I have to catch a plane tonight, so you tell those other surgeons to hurry it up."

Derek cursed under his breath. Between Meredith's illness and Mark's sudden appearance, flying to New York that evening had slipped his mind.

"Grey, I have news for you, you won't be getting on a plane for at least a couple days."

"But..." She turned to Derek to back her up. "We have to. We've already cancelled. And I'm ready now. I want to go."

"Doctor Bailey is right," Derek said quietly, squeezing Meredith hand. "You won't be up to flying. But it's okay," he reassured. "Mom will understand. And we'll reschedule again."

Meredith made a face. "But I was ready," she repeated.

He nodded. "That just means you'll be even more ready next time."

She huffed, but accepted his words.

"I'll be back when I have a better estimate of a time," Bailey said, quickly excusing herself.

Derek sighed and pulled his cell phone off of his waist band.

"What are you doing?"

He offered her a smile. "I'm going to call mom now, give her as much warning as I can." They were supposed to take a late flight, which would get them into New York early the following morning.

She nodded, and remained silent as he made the call.

"Hello?"

"Mom," Derek greeted.

"Ah, my favourite son."

"I'm your only son, mom," he said wryly, smiling at her gentle laughter on the other end of the phone.

"Are you all packed and ready?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry to do this again, but we're not going to be able to make it. Meredith's in the hospital."

"I thought you were both working today?"

He chuckled. "No, I mean as a patient."

"Oh, dear, what's the matter? Nothing serious, I hope?"

"No, nothing serious. But her appendix chose today to inflame. She's scheduled for surgery as soon as an OR is free."

"Well, I'm sorry you're not going to make it," she said, her voice laced with disappointment. "But tell Meredith I hope she heals quickly."

"I will," he said with a smile.

"You will reschedule though, right?"

"Of course," he said quickly, feeling the same disappointment. "Trust me, mom, we wanted to come out. But Mer will need a few days to recover...and I can't leave her..."

"Of course, Derek. I wouldn't dream of asking you to come alone and leave her when she's sick. I raised you better than that. I'm just sorry I'm not going to see you and finally meet this girl you seem so happy about."

"I'm sorry too, mom." He smiled at Meredith. "You're going to love her when you do meet her."

Meredith tilted her head. "Is she upset?"

Derek reached for her hand to reassure her. "Disappointed she's not going to meet you, but not upset."

Meredith pulled her hand out of his, reaching for his phone. "Let me talk to her," she demanded. "I have to explain."

Derek leaned away, his phone protectively gripped to his ear. "It's okay, Mer. She understands."

"No. I need to talk to her."

He shook his head, momentarily covering the mouthpiece. "It's not necessary."

Meredith crossed her arms, glaring at her boyfriend. "Why won't you let me talk to your mother? We've talked before."

He nodded. "You have talked before. And will many times in the future. But right now you're drugged up on morphine, high as a kite, and you'll say something you regret, and when this is all over, you'll blame me."

"Fine," she hissed.

Derek sighed and removed his hand. "Sorry about that."

"Are you with her now?"

"Yeah." He reached for Meredith's hand, and was relieved when she let him pry her arms away from her chest. "I'm in her room, but they gave her some morphine for the pain. And she's a...little loopy."

"Like Kathleen was?"

He smiled at the memory. His older sister had had her appendix out when he was in high school. And had inadvertently let slip a few things she wouldn't normally have wanted her mother to know about. "Worse."

His mother laughed. "Well, have fun with that. I hope it won't be too long of a wait."

"Hopefully no more than a few hours."

"Would you call me afterwards, and let me know everything went okay?"

Derek felt a swell of emotions in his chest. His mother cared enough to want to know that his girlfriend was okay, even though they had never met. "I will. Thanks, mom."

"I'm a mother, Derek. It's my job."

"Okay. I'll call you later. I love you, mom."

"I love you too, Derek."

He turned off his phone with a sigh, and set it on the small table beside the bed as he moved to sit beside Meredith's small form, facing her.

He leaned in close, pausing with his lips inches from hers. "So, am I allowed to kiss you now, or are you still worried about being contagious?"

She scoffed. "You can't catch appendicitis-"

He cut her off quickly, pressing his lips against hers to avoid being roped into a second losing discussion. "I love you," he told her when he pulled away.

She smiled back at him. "I love you too."

He lifted his hand to trail up along the smooth skin of her neck and cheek. "You're complexion is flushed."

"It's the fever and the drugs."

He nodded.

"Derek?"

"Mmm?"

She cocked her head. "They're going to cut open my skin to take out my appendix."

"They are," he agreed. "But don't worry. It's a very minor procedure. And very quick. You'll be fine."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

It was his turn to tilt his head, suddenly concerned that she was stressing about something. "What is it?"

"It's just...I know you say I'm beautiful-"

"You are beautiful."

"You think that now," she retorted. "But this is going to leave a scar."

His heart clenched at her vulnerability. She was drugged to high heavens, and still, she was worried she wouldn't be enough for him. "You're perfect, Meredith, and that's never going to change. Everyone has scars." He indicated the scar on his forehead.

"But yours adds character."

"Meredith, you could be scarred all over, and it wouldn't change the way I see you, the way I feel about you."

"But...I don't start out as much," she said quietly, looking away from his eyes. "And I know that you love me for who I am and everything, but you...if you were to compare me to Addison-"

"Hey," he said sharply. "There's no comparison, Meredith. I was never half as turned on by her as I am by you."

"But she's all leggy and fabulous, with the designer names and heels and-"

He kissed her again, long and deep. "You are gorgeous, Meredith, absolutely gorgeous. You take my breath away when you're wearing scrubs. And I love that you're you, with the simpler clothes, and sneakers at work."

"Really?" She looked back at him finally.

He nodded. "Really. I love the jeans. And the sweaters. And..." He smirked. "I especially love it when you steal my clothes."

She smiled at him. "Okay."

He pecked her lips before responding. "Okay."

"So, the scar won't change anything?"

"Absolutely not."

"Good. Because I don't want things to change. I don't want to lose you, Derek, not ever."

"Well, that's a good thing to hear, because I'm in this forever. You're stuck with me."

She giggled. "I think I can live with that."

He smiled back, but was interrupted by the sounds of his pager going off before he could respond. Nine-One-One. "Damn it," he mumbled. With Krycheck in the OR with Derek's patient, Derek was the only attending level neurosurgeon free to handle an emergency. "Meredith, I'm so sorry, but I need to take this."

"It's okay."

He pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay."

He nodded to her before rushing from her room.

000

Meredith watched Derek disappear from her room. He was a neurosurgeon. He had been paged. He needed to go. And that was okay. She was okay by herself. She could barely feel the pain, and when she did, all she had to do was push the magic button in her hand. And then she really did feel grrrrreat!

She sighed, wishing Derek had let her speak to his mother. She knew the older woman would be upset that they couldn't visit. And Meredith had really wanted to explain what was going on, to make sure Derek's mother understood. Derek was acting strange today, suddenly not being so good at getting his point across. Just look how many misunderstandings he had initiated in the past half hour. She sincerely doubted he had explained properly.

Meredith turned to her side to get more comfortable, but paused when she caught sight of Derek's cell phone lying on the small table beside her bed. This was perfect; now Meredith could call her back and explain without Derek's interference.

She reached for the phone and easily navigated through his menu to his last outgoing call. She hit send and waited for Jane Shepherd to pick up.

The ringing stopped. "Hello?" A friendly voice greeted her.

"Mrs. Shepherd? It's Meredith Grey, you know, Derek's girlfriend."

AN: I am SO looking forward to writing this conversation. Meredith on morphine versus Mrs. Shepherd. Oh, the possibilities. And if anyone reading has anything they want to see/read Meredith saying to her future mother-in-law, let me know and I'll do my best to fit it in...