Hotel Room Drabbles

Braid

Braid.

Getting ready in the morning felt like hell these days. It was so much easier to head in for a night shift after spending all day lounging around. Scrambling around at six in the morning used to be nothing. It was just routine. Now it felt like agony to get out the door and to the hospital by seven.

Throwing her brush down onto the bathroom counter, she anchored her fingertips against the sink and tightened them, trying to crush away the stress building inside her. Something so simple felt so difficult. She just needed to get this hair into its secure position so she could head out the door without any more issues.

"Meredith?" She heard from around the corner. It made her sigh to hear him say her name in such a concerned tone. She really didn't mean to make him feel like anything was wrong. "Everything okay?" His voice was soft and caring.

She turned her face to look at Cormac standing in the bathroom doorway. Her hair fell over her shoulders and cascaded around her face, parted from where she'd attempted to fix it herself.

"Yeah," she sighed, looking down at the sink as her weight rested into her arms that held her up from the counter. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"I hate that word," his voice growled in a low tone. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, looking her over.

She smirked, looking over to him again, accepting his genuine concern. "There's nowhere to easily braid my hair at work anymore and I don't want to ask any of the nurses to do it because they have enough on their plates. Maggie had been doing it for me, but she's working opposite of me right now, so I've got to get this hair up myself before going in. I just need a few minutes. I'll be ready to go soon."

He glanced once more at her and stepped by her, grabbing the hairbrush and scattered assortment of hair ties and bobby pins in his hand.

"I was using–..." She muttered as he took her hand, pulling her back into the bedroom area of the hotel room.

He sat down on the bed, scooching back enough to give her space to sit down between his legs on the edge of the bed. "Sit," he commanded, dropping the collection of hair supplies beside him on the bed.

She scrunched her eyebrows together, tilting her head in question before following his order and settling down between his legs. She wasn't about to question what the hell was going on as he quickly began fixing the part in her hair, brushing it delicately down two sides. His hands instantly began working along her hairline, french braiding her hair into the two braids she normally wore. He worked the braid down the length of her hair, repeating the process on the other side. He then moved the two braids into position on the back of her head, bobby-pinning them into place.

"Perfect," he said softly, placing the last pin.

She smiled as she stood up and looked into the mirror above the desk across the bedroom, "Where on earth did you learn to do this?" She felt the braid with her fingertips, admiring his work.

"My little sister spent many years in ballet," he said. "The future surgeon in the family was the only one capable of handling those tight braids. Plus I've spent enough hours with you to know you wear yours in the exact same fashion every day you're in surgery."

She turned to look at him still as he sat on the bed. "Thank you," she whispered, cupping his cheeks with both hands and leaning down to kiss his forehead. He smiled up at her, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her into him, kissing her lips softly before taking it deeper as he fell onto his back and pulled her down with him, making her giggle. He placed his hands on her cheek to lift her face away from his, "Anytime. I'll take them down for you tonight." He winked, caressing her cheek.

She kissed him gently once more and nodded, climbing off of him and fixing her sweater, "Looking forward to it."

"Are we going to get going now, or are we going to make the mutual decision to be late once again?" He asked, standing up and reaching over to the dresser to throw a handful of things into his bag for work.

She giggled, smirking over to him, "We've already been late once this week, so I think we better get going."

He raised his eyebrows teasingly, nodding and reaching for his phone and keys. They both knew they'd be back within the walls of their hotel room late that night, hopefully without too much stress and exhaustion weighing them down. They each provided one another with such an escape from the pain a long day or night of work would bring them.

Sixteen hours passed before Meredith was finally able to make her way to Cormac's office, knocking on the door before hearing him respond to come in.

"Hey you," she said with a smile as she entered his office and pulled off her mask, closing the door behind her.

"Dr. Grey," he said charmingly, standing up and walking around his desk, leaning against the front of it, "I'm just wrapping up. Are we going to get out of here any time soon?"

She nodded, walking towards him as he extended his arms out for her, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her to him. She placed her hands on his arms, relaxing into the feeling of his thumbs kneading against her hip bones. She could feel him working the stress out of her body with just the touch of his fingertips. "I'm ready to go when you are," she said softly, "but you finish whatever you need to."

He looked into her eyes, continuing his soft caress of her hips, "How was your day?" He asked in a quiet tone, nearly whispering it. He could always tell when she was burying something beneath it all.

She shrugged, looking away from him, "Fine."

He cleared his throat purposely, calling her out for her use of the 'fine' he despised so much. He reached up to tuck a stray hair from her tired braids back behind her ear.

"Eight-hour surgery. Guy didn't make it. Had to go tell his wife and three kids," she muttered, not making eye contact. Cormac reached up with his right hand, stroking her jaw to make her focus on him. He looked into her eyes and nodded, listening for her to go on. She shrugged as a tear escaped her eye, "Just hit close to home, you know?"

"I know," he whispered, pulling her into him for a hug, stroking her back gently as he held her to him. "I'm done here. Let's get out of here and go have a drink in the room."

She nodded, pulling back to arm's length and letting him stand from his slouched position against the front of his desk. "I'd like that," she said softly.

Less than an hour had passed until they were back in the comforts of their hotel room they'd been calling home lately. The darkness outside and the dim lighting of the room was relaxing after such a long and exhausting day. The two unloaded their bags and began to undo their clothing to change into something cozy, each having already showered and changed to casual clothing back at the hospital.

After pouring each of them a glass of whiskey over ice, Cormac sat down on the bed and patted the sheets, motioning for her to come sit down in front of him. She immediately obliged with a soft smile and stepped across the room in her baggy t-shirt and panties combo. She sat down against his leg, relaxing as he began to work his fingers into her hair and slip the pins out, removing each braid from it's position and undoing them gently. Her hair fell over her shoulders with a tight, wavy pattern as he fluffed out the creases from the pins and ties. He moved his fingers through the waves, grazing her scalp gently with every stroke.

She sighed back into his chest, relaxing as he ran his fingers down to her thighs, brushing up under the loose material of her oversized t-shirt. He grazed his fingers by the material of her panties that rested along her hip, making her shiver with every moment he teased her. He loved to tease her, but also loved seeing her let go and relax within his arms.

Feeling all of the pain of the day melt away as he held her reminded her why they were staying together through all of this. Moments like these were exactly what they each needed; allowing each of them to find peace and comfort within the confines of their current living space.