71. Chapter 71

Meredith suppressed a yawn as she pushed open the door that would take her back out onto the surgical floor from the stairs. Her morning had been busy, forcing her to ignore the fact that she had two and a half hours less sleep than she had expected. After Derek had been paged into the hospital early, Meredith had sat with Susan in the kitchen until she had suddenly noticed the time on the stove and had had to rush to get to work on time.

But despite the awkward beginning and the rush at the end, the middle had gone surprisingly well. Meredith was glad Susan had chosen that morning to show up unannounced. She was really nice, and seemed genuine; like maybe Meredith really could let her in. Not everyone left. It was a mantra she had to repeat in her head once in a while. Not everyone left. Not everyone left. Not everyone left.

Some days were better than others. Some people had more of her trust than others. And some of the people around her would leave, she knew. But the people who were the most important to her, the people she had let in the most, would not leave.

A second later a smile came unbidden to her lips as the biggest reminder of people she had let in – and who would not leave her – came into view.

"Hey," Derek greeted warmly, his tired eyes lighting up at the sight of her. He came to a stop, offering her a smile, and she did the same.

"Hey," she responded easily.

He tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and reached a hand out towards her, his thumb and forefinger brushing against her forearm. "How was the rest of your morning?"

She smiled at his concern. "It was good."

He raised an eyebrow and she laughed.

"Really," she insisted. "We talked. A lot. And it was...okay."

The corners of his lips twitched upwards. "Hmm, maybe it was a good thing I was paged."

She shrugged. "I guess. Just make sure it never happens when my father is around, because that I am not ready for."

This time he really did smile.

"What happened with your patient?"

"You mean patients," he corrected. "I've been in surgery all morning."

Meredith made a face. "Successfully, I hope."

He nodded. "Two will pull through for sure. One...well, I've got my fingers crossed. It's bad, but he's a fighter."

"Good."

"Yeah." He nodded again. "So, what did you and Susan talk about?"

"Stuff."

"Stuff? Could you be a little more specific?"

She laughed. "Well, after we got over the whole awkward 'what-the-hell-do-I-do-now-that-Derek-has-abandoned-me' part, it was okay."

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't abandon you."

Meredith laughed at his tone. "Anyway, it was awkward at first, but we managed to talk a bit about the past, and...and I think there's hope for us. She's really nice. And I think that we could maybe do this semi-related step thing."

Derek furrowed his brow and reached his hand out towards Meredith's forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

She swatted at his hand. "Don't make fun of me! I know I don't sound like me, but I'm serious."

Glancing around quickly to ensure they had some privacy, Derek leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly against hers. "I'm glad. You deserve good people, Meredith."

"I think...I think she may actually kind of like me," Meredith found herself admitting quietly. "At first I thought it was her just feeling guilty for not knowing her husband's daughter, but now...we talked for more than two hours, Derek. I was almost late for work because we lost track of time."

"Well, of course she likes you," he murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "How could she not like you?"

Meredith smiled up at Derek's warm eyes, warmed by the knowledge that he really was flummoxed as to how someone could feel so ambivalent towards her. "People who like me, who actually want to be around me, are more the exception than the rule," she reminded.

He scoffed and shook his head. "Is it okay that I still hate your father for leaving you?"

"I do too," she admitted. "But now...I'm starting to wonder what it would be like to have parental-type people in my life? Susan's really great, so there has to be some good in him for her to love him, right?"

He nodded. "Sure."

"I guess I just wonder what it would be like. I'm not exactly ready to jump into weekly family dinners or whatever, but maybe I can get to know Susan and then slowly start to bridge in Thatcher as well."

Derek smiled.

"What?"

He shrugged. "Susan really got to you, didn't she?"

Meredith let herself smile. "I guess she did."

"And she likes you."

Despite her best efforts, Meredith felt her eyes flicker away from Derek's gaze ever so slightly. "I think so."

He sighed softly and pulled her into a hug, unable to be any distance away from her when she showed such vulnerability. "I like her, too."

Meredith hugged him back tightly, comforted by his warm body against hers. She gripped her fingers around the worn fabric of his scrub top for a long moment, and then released him. "She likes you, too," she admitted when she could meet Derek's eyes again.

The quirky, cocky smile she was so used to made an entrance. "Really?"

She nodded. "Mmm-hmm, said she thought you were charming. But I set her straight; told her it was all an act."

He made a noise in the back of her throat, but otherwise didn't take her bait.

"I also told her she could stop pretending to laugh at your jokes."

This time he glared at her. "I was worried about you all morning, and this is what I get for my trouble?"

"For your trouble? How would worrying about me actually do anything to help me?"

"I don't know, but it's not like I could help it."

Meredith giggled. "It's sweet that you were worried, but I was okay."

"You didn't actually talk about me, right?"

This time she shrugged. "Apparently it's what you talk about with your estranged father's wife."

"What; not-so-charming neurosurgeons whose jokes aren't funny?" He deadpanned.

Meredith laughed out loud before she could help it. Her hand came up to her mouth, but not in time to prevent a pair of nurses walking by to send worrying glances her way. "Thanks for that," she hissed at Derek. "Like people around here don't already think I'm crazy enough..."

He shrugged as he bit back a smile. "You were the one who was talking about me."

"I told you, that's apparently what you talk about. Boys."

He pursed his lips. "Interesting. I guess that's why I was excluded from so many conversations growing up..."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, ignoring the dozen comments that sprang to her mind at his statement. "She said she likes you," Meredith admitted. "So, I guess that's good. Not that it would make a difference if she didn't. But it makes it easier to plan that she's going to be around in the future knowing that she likes you, because you're going to be around."

"I am." He smirked. "What else did she say about me?"

"You're pathetic."

"You love me."

"She said you seemed good for me. I, uh, I said 'we' and she asked about it, and I wasn't exactly sure what to say, but I'm pretty sure she understands that we're going to be a we forever."

Derek's lips flattened as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to translate that for me."

Meredith laughed. "I said some random thing about the future, and you and me. You know, we. She asked me if that was my plan. And I..."

"Rambled?"

She glared at him. "See, now there's absolutely no reason why you should think that."

"So, you're telling me you didn't ramble an answer that she probably didn't understand at all?"

"She understood fine."

"Really, because it took me months to start to decode the rambling..."

"Shut up."

"I always did think it was adorable, though, even when I only caught every other word."

"Fine; I rambled a little. And avoided the answer, because I really didn't know what to say. I mean, we did end up talking about you a bit. And I did tell her that I was planning on there being a 'we' forever. But..."

"But you didn't tell her we were planning on getting married?"

His eyes were calm and blue, so she knew he wasn't upset. "Well, it's not like you proposed or anything..."

He laughed, before retorting, "my sky-writing pilot bailed on me. Something about too many loops in your name. I'm looking for another one."

She giggled. "I will seriously kill you, you know?"

"Yeah, but it would be worth the look on your face."

Meredith shook her head. "Anyway, I wasn't sure how much to tell her."

"Just as much as you want her to know."

"Yeah, I get that, but I'm not really sure how much I want her to know. I mean, she's really nice, but I'm sure she's telling Thatcher stuff. And I...I kind of like having a secret with you. Well, with you and Cristina, seeing as she took it upon herself to butt in."

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards to form a smile. "I seem to recall that you chose to confide in her instead of me..."

"That's because I was freaking out thinking you didn't want me, and she caught me at a weak moment."

"First of all, that doesn't make it Cristina's fault. And second – and most important – I will always want you."

The burst of happy tingles in her stomach at his comment made her smile. "Cristina made it her fault when she went to you." She paused. "And second; I love you."

He pecked her on the lips. "I love you too. And as much as I love talking to you, I need to go and check on my patients and grab something for lunch, and then be in surgery is less than an hour."

"I should get going too."

"Did you want to grab lunch with me? It'll be rushed, but we may be able to sit for a minute."

"I'd love to, but I think I have to have an intervention with Cristina."

"You're not seriously angry at her, right?"

"Oh, this has nothing to do with that."

"Then, what?"

"She's wearing nail polish."

Derek opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no words came out. However, his expression told her enough. He had no idea how nail polish required an intervention.

"Nail polish, Derek. It's Cristina. And every one of her freaking fingers are painted a different colour. And she's using chess analogies that I don't understand because I'm not a geek. She's going over the edge. Burke and cardio god are making her crazy."

His expression still told her he was lost, but he smiled and shrugged anyway. "Well, good luck with that..."

She smiled. "Thanks. I'll need it."

**

"So?"

Derek sighed and shook his head. "So, what?" It had become a daily occurrence. Derek would think he was alone, only to be accosted by his former best friend at the OR board. It had been six days since he had admitted to Mark that he was planning on proposing. And he had been cornered at the OR board six times.

"So, have you asked her yet?"

"I'm not talking to you about this."

"You will eventually."

"Nope."

"You know, technically you already are talking about it with me."

"No, I'm not."

"You are," Mark insisted. "We're talking. And the subject is that intern of yours..."

Derek clenched his jaw and stayed silent.

"Oh," Mark said quietly. "I get it. She said no. I'm sorry, man."

"She didn't say no," Derek retorted before he could help it.

"So you didn't ask yet."

Derek exhaled heavily. As much as he hated to admit it, Mark knew him too well for Derek to be able to evade his questions.

"I didn't think so," Mark continued, not needing actual words to get his answer. "You need to over think everything."

"There's nothing to think about."

"Do you think she's going to say no?"

"She's not going to say no."

"Then what's stopping you?"

"Nothing. I just want everything to be special. She deserves it to be special."

Mark scoffed. "Did you learn nothing from me? Chicks only need three things for romance; flowers, jewellery and whipped cream."

This time Derek groaned. "I am not having this conversation with you."

"And yet you're still talking to me."

"Against my better judgment."

"Come on," Mark pushed. "If there's one thing I know; it's how to make women happy."

Derek scoffed. "How can you stand here and say that? You've pissed off more women than I think I've ever met."

"That says more about you than me," Mark shot back, unhindered.

Derek rolled his eyes.

"And it's not my fault the ladies get upset after we've done the horizontal salsa and they want more."

"Mambo."

"What?"

"It's the horizontal mambo." Derek paused. "And you're an idiot."

"I'm not the one with a ring burning a hole in my pocket."

"It's not in my pocket."

"You don't even have it on you?" Mark shook his head. "How do you ever expect to work up the nerve to ask if you don't have it on you?"

"It's not about nerve."

"Right; it's about 'making it special.'" Mark did a horrible job disguising the semi-disgusted expression on his face as he held his fingers up to make air quotes.

"You don't get it. I love her, Mark. She's it for me. So, I need to start things off right."

"I'm not exactly the relationship expert," Mark said, smiling wryly and ignoring the way Derek shook his head, "But I'm pretty sure the proposal isn't the starting point. You have to start before that to get her to say yes."

Derek almost laughed at the words leaving his former best friend's mouth. "That's not exactly what I meant," he mumbled, wishing he had someone who understood; wishing he had his best friend back. Mark hadn't always been able to understand the way Derek viewed love and relationships, but he had tried. And he had always been able to offer Derek something. He sighed, trying to find some way of explaining to the plastic surgeon just exactly what he was feeling. It had never been this hard before. They had grown up together. They had been brothers. "She's never had anyone she can count on," he said quietly. "She's never had anyone make her feel special. This is my chance to..."

"Make her feel special? Derek, the girl lights up when you're around. She'd say yes to anything."

He sighed. "But that's not the point. I want something we're both going to remember."

Mark waved a hand, as if emphasizing how easy this should be. "This is what you do. Get as many flowers as you can. Put some in vases and crap around her bedroom. Pull the petals off the others and trail them from the front door to the bed. Light some scented candles. Put the ring in the centre of the bed and-"

Derek held up a hand. "Is all you know stereotypes?"

"Stereotypes became stereotypes for a reason."

"Whatever," Derek muttered, knowing it wasn't worth arguing. Mark probably had a thousand examples to back up his side. "The point is that Meredith isn't the stereotype. She doesn't want that. She doesn't do big and flashy."

Mark sighed heavily, as if thinking about a different type of woman than he was used to was a challenge. "What does she do?"

"Low key. Memorable. Something that will remind her of where we started, and how far we've come and-"

They were cut off by the sounds of a pager.

Mark looked relieved when it was his pager demanding attention. "My OR is free." He glanced back at Derek with a shrug. "Stop over thinking. If she says yes, it will be memorable."

Derek huffed. "She's going to say yes."

"Then it will be memorable," Mark countered without hesitation. "Just...go with your gut." And with that, the plastic surgeon was gone.

Derek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he was over thinking. But this was important. Mark was right about one thing; it would be memorable regardless of the how and the where. But picking one seemed ominous.

Ferry boats were cliché, and he still got a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of them. Restaurants were also cliché, and too public. You couldn't have a private moment when fifty people were staring at you because you were down on one knee. Plus, Meredith wouldn't want the attention. He needed somewhere they could fly under the radar. But also somewhere that would mean something.

He had to muffle his laugh at the thought of proposing in an OR. It would definitely be memorable, but would maybe bridge the gap between work and home a little too much. It had to be away from the hospital.

With a sigh, Derek headed for his office, deciding the paperwork he had been delaying should be looked at. However, once he sat down at his desk, all he could look at was the framed picture of him and Meredith sitting on his desk, and all he could think about was the lavender-purple velvet box sitting in the back of his middle drawer.

The fact that she was still his girlfriend bothered him. The term seemed petty and small; nothing compared to how he felt about her. He wanted desperately to be able to call her his wife, but would settle for fiancée for a little while. It, at the very least, denoted some sense of permanence.

He wasn't the only one getting anxious. After Meredith's fears had been brought to light and discussed, her expression had changed from uncertainty to curiosity and anticipation. She too was ready for their terms to change.

Shaking his head in an – unsuccessful – attempt to clear his head, Derek reached for the top folder on his desk, and set to writing his notes. He got exactly one quarter of the way down the first form before he couldn't help but push his chair back and reach for the second brass handle to his right.

The small purple box was just where he had left it, and the right was just as perfect as it had been the last time he had stared at it. He did that a lot now; he stared at the ring, as if staring at it long enough would teleport it onto his girlfriend's hand. Only she wouldn't be his girlfriend anymore.

He hadn't been looking for an engagement ring when he had found it. Meredith had been working a thirty hour shift and Derek had been off. Christmas had been right around the corner, and he had found himself out looking for gifts. A kitchen gadget store had caught his eye, so he had parked and gone in looking for something for his sister. Meg loved to cook. Twenty minutes later he came out with a small bag in his hand, and a sign had caught his eye three storefronts down.

With very little hesitation, Derek had wandered down to the small jewellery store, curiosity getting the better of him. Meredith didn't wear jewellery, but maybe he could find her something inconspicuous. The older couple who owned the shop greeted him warmly and Derek browsed over the smaller earnings and charms. Nothing said Meredith to him, until his eyes caught on the ring. A hint of purple buried in sparkles, tucked near the back of the display, overshadowed by big, flashy rocks.

Derek smiled as he remembered the overwhelming need to buy the ring. Back then it had only been months that he and Meredith had been together. But it had been enough for him. He had known at that point that a day less than forever would not be enough.

He hadn't gone into the store thinking of engagement rings, but he had come out with one in his pocket. When you knew, you knew. He knew Meredith was the one for him. And he knew the ring was the one for Meredith. He hadn't even seen the other rings; hadn't had any problems running his eyes past them without a second glance. The moment he had laid eyes on it, he had known. It had been unplanned and unexpected, but everything he needed.

Just like Meredith.

His breath caught as he stared at the ring and imagined Meredith's face when she said yes. Mark was right about one thing; he would need to ask for her to be able to say yes. And now he knew exactly where he was going to ask. It had been right in front of him the whole time.