You Send Me
Title: You Send Me
Pairing: Meredith & Derek
Show: Grey's Anatomy (duh!)
Timeline: About 2 years in the future. Ferryboat & Susan dying did happen. Finale? Did not.
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Shonda Rhimes. Not Me.
This is going to be a non-oneshot. Don't know how long it'll take. Not more than 10, but probably around 5 or 7. R It all depends on how long it takes me to get there. :) this is kind of an offshoot from an earlier vignette I wrote about MerDer being married and her finding out she was pregnant. Read til the end of this part and you'll see what I mean. The title of this fic comes from the song by Sam Cooke (altho I do prefer the Aretha Franklin version ;)) as I feel its pretty perfect for this story. Please let me know what you think!!!
Part 1
He was exhausted, beaten, broken when he pulled into the long drive leading to his trailer. Nearly 72 straight hours at the hospital. Nothing new, but this time, it had been especially problematic. He’d lost three patients, including one whom he’d really liked and had been positive he could save. And then he’d had the task of telling his wife she was now a widow.
Such was the life of the Head of Neurosurgery at Washington State’s most prestigious and renowned hospital.
Some days, it was a piece of cake.
Other times, it was damn near impossible.
He had a conference he had to attend in three days, for the entire weekend. It was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. But nearly every top-ranking neurosurgeon in the country would be there and he should be no different.
Derek was raking a hand down over his face with a ragged sigh as he turned the bend in his drive to speed up beside the lake to the trailer. Her Jeep came into view, parked awkwardly in its usual spot as always.
At first he felt disappointment, then annoyance. He was spent, exhausted, and all he wanted was to be alone. The last thing he needed was her there, all beautiful and sexy and smelling good and clouding up his thoughts. He stewed over it as he parked, shut off his car, slid out and slammed the door behind him. He was pissed all the way up to the Airstream and even as he stepped inside.
But the sight of her changed everything.
She was leaning against his counter, peering down at an assortment of white square cartons and foiled take-out tins, clad in her ever-ready Dartmouth t-shirt and his favorite pair of boxers. Her legs were smooth, clean-shaven down to the huge white ankle socks she’d shoved her delicate feet into. All of that sweet-smelling hair had been pushed back into her signature Meredith ponytail tied at the nape of her neck. Her long, expertly shaped eyebrows were arched as glanced over the food containers before her, but she quickly turned, looking over at the sound of him coming through the door.
She smiled. Grinned. Beamed. The widening of her mouth pulled her lips apart, exposing her perfectly-aligned white teeth, and crinkled those big multi-colored cat eyes at the corners. He felt sucker punched, right in the gut, zapped of breath, and every thread of anger, annoyance, and resentment simply left him. He was absolutely gone from one look in her face. “Hey! I got Chinese!” She giggled joyously, clearly very proud of herself as she greeted him.
Derek couldn’t help but laugh as he kicked off his shoes and shed his windbreaker. He moved toward her quickly, with the efficiency of a cat, slinking his arms around her waist to pull her into a quick kiss. “Mmm. Hey.” He pushed stray strands of hair out of her face as he peered down into her eyes. Every bad thought about the last three days left him. “You hate Chinese food.”
She giggled again, leaned up on her toes and kissed his lips quickly. “I do. But you, for some weird reason, love it. And when I heard about Alan . . .” she bit her lip at his grimace, her words leaving her. He stepped back, his arms dropping from her waist.
“Yeah. It was pretty bad.”
Meredith stared into his eyes, reaching up to rest a supportive hand on his muscular bicep. “You knew the risks, Derek. You knew there could be - that there were complications. Alan knew that too.”
He shook his head, looked away, out the window over the lake. The sight of such serene and pristine nature never failed to calm him in some way. It was part of the reason why he had moved here, to Seattle, and onto this land. The lush green terrain helped recede his anxiety. That plus Meredith and, well, he was halfway - no, all the way - to paradise.
“Yeah. I know.” He looked back into her face; saw her worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She was concerned for him, it was clear, and he nearly swooned with love for her. She was the best thing ever, in the whole world, and he was crazy for thinking he wanted to be alone tonight. “No matter how long you’ve been a doctor, though, there’s always going to be another patient you get a little too attached to. And its always hard when those are the patients you end up losing.”
“Occupational hazard,” Meredith cracked with a lame smile, wrapping her arms around Derek’s torso to pull him into a hug. He sighed, his shoulders instantly relaxing into the embrace as he nuzzled his face in her hair, rubbing his lips against her forehead.
He smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.” He leaned back so he could drug himself on the look in her gorgeous cat eyes.
She smiled too, sighing. “Well, I wasn’t gonna come but then I heard about Alan and I thought, you know, maybe you’d need me tonight.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, trying to keep the mood light.
Derek smiled, nothing else in the world existing in that moment but the two of them. “I always need you,” he whispered, tilting her face up with his fingers to kiss her warmly. She moaned into his mouth, leaning up on her toes to slide her fingers into his hair and deepen the contact. She whimpered as he pulled away, licking her lips in the process, relishing her taste, immediately leaning in for another quick sample.
“So I got you Chinese,” she whispered, trying to find her voice. “I’ll nibble.”
Derek laughed, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at her. She looked good enough to eat. “Chinese can wait,” he grunted as he pulled her back into his arms. “I want to nibble too.”
“Derek!” She squealed as he picked her up, swooping her into his arms, and carried her back to the bed. He deposited her onto her feet beside it and immediately began to undo his pants.
“Take. Off. Those. Clothes.” Derek hissed through gritted teeth, emphasizing every syllable as he pushed his jeans down and kicked them away, the need to be naked and buried within her suddenly nearly choking him.
Meredith was gaping at him, too excited by his sudden aggression to know what to do, but the sight of him straining in those sexy Calvin Klein boxer-briefs brought her back to the task at hand.
She reached for the hem of her t-shirt, raised her arms and yanked Dartmouth from its hold on her torso, tossing it aside, instantly forgotten.
Derek halted in the pursuit of kicking off his underwear, stopped, stood, tilted his head and stared at her with some sort of wonder.
She hadn’t been wearing a bra.
“Fuck the clothes,” he growled then, and she squealed as he stepped forward, pushed her back onto the bed and followed her down.
“Derek,” she giggled as his strong, athletic build covered hers and she opened her legs to him, wrapped them around his waist, reaching up to slide her fingers through his hair.
“Meredith,” he said, arching his back and rolling into her like the crush of a wave, grinding his pelvis into hers, stimulating her arousal with his, watching her eyes darken and dilate with desire. She did that thing she did, that thing that killed him every time, where she brought her legs up just enough to dip the tips of her incredibly sexy toes under the waistband of his underwear. Then she was lifting and sliding, lifting and sliding her smooth, creamy legs down his hard, hairy ones and he shuddered, twitched in her embrace as she finally freed him of his undergarments and tossed them across the trailer with her foot. He arced up into her again with a desperate pant, leaning down to suckle the tip of her nipple into his mouth, and she purred her approval.
They’d made love more times than he could remember, in all different kinds of ways, positions, locations, and situations. She’d always done this to him. Always. Made him twitch and shudder and shake like some addict suffering through withdrawal. Trying to think straight wasn’t working. It never worked. Thought just didn’t exist for him when it came to Meredith. The only words, the only conscious processing, were singular, on repeat, GO GO GO. And Meredith was moaning, whimpering, moving against him and he was kissing her and loving her and it made everything, all of it, all the bullshit of the day to day pale in comparison to the way he felt in her arms.
“Derek,” she murmured again, her voice thick like sandpaper. He looked up at her, the miracle of his life, felt himself smiling through the haze of madness and love and lust, and felt himself pushing her - his - boxers off her hips, with her help, just far enough to slip inside of her.
She moaned, long and low, and Derek sank in to the hilt, twitching uncontrollably when her legs locked behind his back to bring him in deep. He gazed down into her eyes, the big haunting windows to her soul, stared into his life, his future, stared, panting with the desire to get moving. But she was staring back and he was stuck, transfixed, lost in her, this incredible woman, and all he could do was watch her.
He was watching the pleasure racing over her face, the way her eyes brightened and the way her pupils dilated, the way her lips parted, quivered, escaped a moan, then tried, failed, and tried again to form his name: “Derek.” She grunted, arched up against him, and he nearly died.
“Don’t move,” he gasped, feeling the burn in his legs as he held them perfectly still, not wanting to budge and ruin it for the both of them.
She shook her head, quirking her lower lip as she moved, slid her arm around his neck, fisted his hair so tightly his eyes stung, and slowly, teasingly, curled her hips against his.
“Oh, God,” he gasped, dropping his face into her neck as he began to, finally, fantastically, move within her. He wanted to go slow, achingly slow, and just watch her, show her how desperately he loved her, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t. Just. Could. Not. The rage of love and lust warring inside of him wouldn’t settle for patient, quiet, slow; he was thrusting so hard everything was a blur, everything, but the feel and friction of her soft, smooth body writhing against his, the sound of her crying in his ear, the pressure of her legs locked around his waist, the sound of the bed slamming against the wall.
“Derek, Derek, Derek!” She chanted breathlessly, attempting to match his frantic, rutting hips beat for beat, his pelvis moving at just the right angle to make her weak, senseless.
“Mere,” he whined, straining against her as he moved. “Oh, God,” he sighed again, rolling his hips into hers, improvising, making it up as he went along, left and right, north and south, diagonal, vertical, horizontal, and studied her face for signs of approval. Her lips were curled, her cheeks flushed, her pretty eyes heavily lidded and wild with desire. He had no idea where he was, absolutely no concept of time or place beyond their slick, sweaty bodies writhing and heaving together on the mattress.
Suddenly she was crying out, almost singing his name to him as she curled up, stiffened, twitching riotously in his embrace and her entire body tensed, squeezed, gloved his so tightly he collapsed with her, gasping, sighing, moaning senselessly. Her orgasm was so powerful it rolled through him, shook him to his very core, and finished him off, milking him so wonderfully he momentarily went blind, collapsing atop her in a spastic, moaning pile of ecstasy.
“Derek,” she nearly purred, stroking his damp, curly hair with her fingers, turning her face into his. “I love you so much.”
They lay there for several long minutes, panting, gasping, cooling down, learning to breathe and move again. Finally, he found his voice and attempted to use it. “Mere,” he nearly whined her name, reluctantly dragging himself off of her, pulling her body with him.
“So good,” she giggled, wiggling her toes triumphantly, grateful they’d gotten their sensation back.
“Mmm-hmm,” he mumbled into her hair, kissing her forehead as he continued his fight to breathe normally. “That was the best sex we’ve had in a long time.”
She nodded, chuckling. “I’ll say. You growled a lot.”
Derek laughed, running a hand down his flushed face. “Yeah.”
She giggled again, tucking her face into his neck. “You’re an amazing lay, Derek Shepherd.”
He smiled, panting roughly, his heart still pounding in a desperate attempt to get back to normal, and he stared down his nose into her beautifully delicate face. She was perfect for him. Smart. Intelligent. Unpredictable. A complete firecracker in bed. Tough. Strong. Gorgeous. Fun. She was his partner in every way. She was the one he went to for advice, from everything as simple as what he should have for lunch to what he should do with all of his land. She was the one he wanted to tell his stories to. She was the one with whom he wanted to lament a lost patient or celebrate a saved one. They’d been through a lot in the three years they’d known one another, in the two that they had been together. Addison. Finn. Her death. Her mother’s death. Susan’s death. Both of their flightiness. But never once, in the midst of all that drama, had he ever wanted anyone or anything but her.
It was in that moment Derek knew.
He was going to marry Meredith.
And the only thing that he needed to do?
Convince her.
Pairing: Meredith & Derek
Show: Grey's Anatomy (duh!)
Timeline: About 2 years in the future. Ferryboat & Susan dying did happen. Finale? Did not.
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Shonda Rhimes. Not Me.
This is going to be a non-oneshot. Don't know how long it'll take. Not more than 10, but probably around 5 or 7. R It all depends on how long it takes me to get there. :) this is kind of an offshoot from an earlier vignette I wrote about MerDer being married and her finding out she was pregnant. Read til the end of this part and you'll see what I mean. The title of this fic comes from the song by Sam Cooke (altho I do prefer the Aretha Franklin version ;)) as I feel its pretty perfect for this story. Please let me know what you think!!!
Part 1
He was exhausted, beaten, broken when he pulled into the long drive leading to his trailer. Nearly 72 straight hours at the hospital. Nothing new, but this time, it had been especially problematic. He’d lost three patients, including one whom he’d really liked and had been positive he could save. And then he’d had the task of telling his wife she was now a widow.
Such was the life of the Head of Neurosurgery at Washington State’s most prestigious and renowned hospital.
Some days, it was a piece of cake.
Other times, it was damn near impossible.
He had a conference he had to attend in three days, for the entire weekend. It was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. But nearly every top-ranking neurosurgeon in the country would be there and he should be no different.
Derek was raking a hand down over his face with a ragged sigh as he turned the bend in his drive to speed up beside the lake to the trailer. Her Jeep came into view, parked awkwardly in its usual spot as always.
At first he felt disappointment, then annoyance. He was spent, exhausted, and all he wanted was to be alone. The last thing he needed was her there, all beautiful and sexy and smelling good and clouding up his thoughts. He stewed over it as he parked, shut off his car, slid out and slammed the door behind him. He was pissed all the way up to the Airstream and even as he stepped inside.
But the sight of her changed everything.
She was leaning against his counter, peering down at an assortment of white square cartons and foiled take-out tins, clad in her ever-ready Dartmouth t-shirt and his favorite pair of boxers. Her legs were smooth, clean-shaven down to the huge white ankle socks she’d shoved her delicate feet into. All of that sweet-smelling hair had been pushed back into her signature Meredith ponytail tied at the nape of her neck. Her long, expertly shaped eyebrows were arched as glanced over the food containers before her, but she quickly turned, looking over at the sound of him coming through the door.
She smiled. Grinned. Beamed. The widening of her mouth pulled her lips apart, exposing her perfectly-aligned white teeth, and crinkled those big multi-colored cat eyes at the corners. He felt sucker punched, right in the gut, zapped of breath, and every thread of anger, annoyance, and resentment simply left him. He was absolutely gone from one look in her face. “Hey! I got Chinese!” She giggled joyously, clearly very proud of herself as she greeted him.
Derek couldn’t help but laugh as he kicked off his shoes and shed his windbreaker. He moved toward her quickly, with the efficiency of a cat, slinking his arms around her waist to pull her into a quick kiss. “Mmm. Hey.” He pushed stray strands of hair out of her face as he peered down into her eyes. Every bad thought about the last three days left him. “You hate Chinese food.”
She giggled again, leaned up on her toes and kissed his lips quickly. “I do. But you, for some weird reason, love it. And when I heard about Alan . . .” she bit her lip at his grimace, her words leaving her. He stepped back, his arms dropping from her waist.
“Yeah. It was pretty bad.”
Meredith stared into his eyes, reaching up to rest a supportive hand on his muscular bicep. “You knew the risks, Derek. You knew there could be - that there were complications. Alan knew that too.”
He shook his head, looked away, out the window over the lake. The sight of such serene and pristine nature never failed to calm him in some way. It was part of the reason why he had moved here, to Seattle, and onto this land. The lush green terrain helped recede his anxiety. That plus Meredith and, well, he was halfway - no, all the way - to paradise.
“Yeah. I know.” He looked back into her face; saw her worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She was concerned for him, it was clear, and he nearly swooned with love for her. She was the best thing ever, in the whole world, and he was crazy for thinking he wanted to be alone tonight. “No matter how long you’ve been a doctor, though, there’s always going to be another patient you get a little too attached to. And its always hard when those are the patients you end up losing.”
“Occupational hazard,” Meredith cracked with a lame smile, wrapping her arms around Derek’s torso to pull him into a hug. He sighed, his shoulders instantly relaxing into the embrace as he nuzzled his face in her hair, rubbing his lips against her forehead.
He smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.” He leaned back so he could drug himself on the look in her gorgeous cat eyes.
She smiled too, sighing. “Well, I wasn’t gonna come but then I heard about Alan and I thought, you know, maybe you’d need me tonight.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, trying to keep the mood light.
Derek smiled, nothing else in the world existing in that moment but the two of them. “I always need you,” he whispered, tilting her face up with his fingers to kiss her warmly. She moaned into his mouth, leaning up on her toes to slide her fingers into his hair and deepen the contact. She whimpered as he pulled away, licking her lips in the process, relishing her taste, immediately leaning in for another quick sample.
“So I got you Chinese,” she whispered, trying to find her voice. “I’ll nibble.”
Derek laughed, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at her. She looked good enough to eat. “Chinese can wait,” he grunted as he pulled her back into his arms. “I want to nibble too.”
“Derek!” She squealed as he picked her up, swooping her into his arms, and carried her back to the bed. He deposited her onto her feet beside it and immediately began to undo his pants.
“Take. Off. Those. Clothes.” Derek hissed through gritted teeth, emphasizing every syllable as he pushed his jeans down and kicked them away, the need to be naked and buried within her suddenly nearly choking him.
Meredith was gaping at him, too excited by his sudden aggression to know what to do, but the sight of him straining in those sexy Calvin Klein boxer-briefs brought her back to the task at hand.
She reached for the hem of her t-shirt, raised her arms and yanked Dartmouth from its hold on her torso, tossing it aside, instantly forgotten.
Derek halted in the pursuit of kicking off his underwear, stopped, stood, tilted his head and stared at her with some sort of wonder.
She hadn’t been wearing a bra.
“Fuck the clothes,” he growled then, and she squealed as he stepped forward, pushed her back onto the bed and followed her down.
“Derek,” she giggled as his strong, athletic build covered hers and she opened her legs to him, wrapped them around his waist, reaching up to slide her fingers through his hair.
“Meredith,” he said, arching his back and rolling into her like the crush of a wave, grinding his pelvis into hers, stimulating her arousal with his, watching her eyes darken and dilate with desire. She did that thing she did, that thing that killed him every time, where she brought her legs up just enough to dip the tips of her incredibly sexy toes under the waistband of his underwear. Then she was lifting and sliding, lifting and sliding her smooth, creamy legs down his hard, hairy ones and he shuddered, twitched in her embrace as she finally freed him of his undergarments and tossed them across the trailer with her foot. He arced up into her again with a desperate pant, leaning down to suckle the tip of her nipple into his mouth, and she purred her approval.
They’d made love more times than he could remember, in all different kinds of ways, positions, locations, and situations. She’d always done this to him. Always. Made him twitch and shudder and shake like some addict suffering through withdrawal. Trying to think straight wasn’t working. It never worked. Thought just didn’t exist for him when it came to Meredith. The only words, the only conscious processing, were singular, on repeat, GO GO GO. And Meredith was moaning, whimpering, moving against him and he was kissing her and loving her and it made everything, all of it, all the bullshit of the day to day pale in comparison to the way he felt in her arms.
“Derek,” she murmured again, her voice thick like sandpaper. He looked up at her, the miracle of his life, felt himself smiling through the haze of madness and love and lust, and felt himself pushing her - his - boxers off her hips, with her help, just far enough to slip inside of her.
She moaned, long and low, and Derek sank in to the hilt, twitching uncontrollably when her legs locked behind his back to bring him in deep. He gazed down into her eyes, the big haunting windows to her soul, stared into his life, his future, stared, panting with the desire to get moving. But she was staring back and he was stuck, transfixed, lost in her, this incredible woman, and all he could do was watch her.
He was watching the pleasure racing over her face, the way her eyes brightened and the way her pupils dilated, the way her lips parted, quivered, escaped a moan, then tried, failed, and tried again to form his name: “Derek.” She grunted, arched up against him, and he nearly died.
“Don’t move,” he gasped, feeling the burn in his legs as he held them perfectly still, not wanting to budge and ruin it for the both of them.
She shook her head, quirking her lower lip as she moved, slid her arm around his neck, fisted his hair so tightly his eyes stung, and slowly, teasingly, curled her hips against his.
“Oh, God,” he gasped, dropping his face into her neck as he began to, finally, fantastically, move within her. He wanted to go slow, achingly slow, and just watch her, show her how desperately he loved her, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t. Just. Could. Not. The rage of love and lust warring inside of him wouldn’t settle for patient, quiet, slow; he was thrusting so hard everything was a blur, everything, but the feel and friction of her soft, smooth body writhing against his, the sound of her crying in his ear, the pressure of her legs locked around his waist, the sound of the bed slamming against the wall.
“Derek, Derek, Derek!” She chanted breathlessly, attempting to match his frantic, rutting hips beat for beat, his pelvis moving at just the right angle to make her weak, senseless.
“Mere,” he whined, straining against her as he moved. “Oh, God,” he sighed again, rolling his hips into hers, improvising, making it up as he went along, left and right, north and south, diagonal, vertical, horizontal, and studied her face for signs of approval. Her lips were curled, her cheeks flushed, her pretty eyes heavily lidded and wild with desire. He had no idea where he was, absolutely no concept of time or place beyond their slick, sweaty bodies writhing and heaving together on the mattress.
Suddenly she was crying out, almost singing his name to him as she curled up, stiffened, twitching riotously in his embrace and her entire body tensed, squeezed, gloved his so tightly he collapsed with her, gasping, sighing, moaning senselessly. Her orgasm was so powerful it rolled through him, shook him to his very core, and finished him off, milking him so wonderfully he momentarily went blind, collapsing atop her in a spastic, moaning pile of ecstasy.
“Derek,” she nearly purred, stroking his damp, curly hair with her fingers, turning her face into his. “I love you so much.”
They lay there for several long minutes, panting, gasping, cooling down, learning to breathe and move again. Finally, he found his voice and attempted to use it. “Mere,” he nearly whined her name, reluctantly dragging himself off of her, pulling her body with him.
“So good,” she giggled, wiggling her toes triumphantly, grateful they’d gotten their sensation back.
“Mmm-hmm,” he mumbled into her hair, kissing her forehead as he continued his fight to breathe normally. “That was the best sex we’ve had in a long time.”
She nodded, chuckling. “I’ll say. You growled a lot.”
Derek laughed, running a hand down his flushed face. “Yeah.”
She giggled again, tucking her face into his neck. “You’re an amazing lay, Derek Shepherd.”
He smiled, panting roughly, his heart still pounding in a desperate attempt to get back to normal, and he stared down his nose into her beautifully delicate face. She was perfect for him. Smart. Intelligent. Unpredictable. A complete firecracker in bed. Tough. Strong. Gorgeous. Fun. She was his partner in every way. She was the one he went to for advice, from everything as simple as what he should have for lunch to what he should do with all of his land. She was the one he wanted to tell his stories to. She was the one with whom he wanted to lament a lost patient or celebrate a saved one. They’d been through a lot in the three years they’d known one another, in the two that they had been together. Addison. Finn. Her death. Her mother’s death. Susan’s death. Both of their flightiness. But never once, in the midst of all that drama, had he ever wanted anyone or anything but her.
It was in that moment Derek knew.
He was going to marry Meredith.
And the only thing that he needed to do?
Convince her.