I Wanna Be Yours

"Chapter 7"

Meredith Grey is nervous. She hasn't been this nervous in years, but the mere idea of removing David Shepherd's stitches has her stomach tied in knots.

Or maybe it's more the way Derek is with David that makes her nervous.

Derek Shepherd is a dad.

It took her a bit to let it sink in, but now it's firmly embedded in her head, and she has a hard time believing it.

She has a thing for a dad. A single dad. Just perfect.

Meredith has a short shift today, just like the week before, and David is coming in at exactly the same time as last time, when he arrived screaming and covered in blood.

This time, when he sees her, he's smiling. He's walking beside his father, and the both of them have the most mischievous grins on their faces. Derek is in scrubs like the ninety-nine percent of the time she sees him, and she's glad he's not wearing jeans or a shirt or anything resembling what he wore at Joe's.

Except he makes scrubs look good. They look amazing on him. She only thanks the Lord they're not indigo blue like hers, or she would be screwed. He'd look amazing in attendings' scrubs. Thank God indeed for the seven years of residency.

"Dr. Grey!" David grins, greeting her with a strange excitement. "Are you going to take out my stitches?

"I am," she smiles back, noticing that they have matching smiles. David is a compact version of Derek. Awesome.

"Good, 'cause they're itchy."

"I'm sorry," she sighs, motioning for him to sit on the exam bed. Derek picks him up under his armpits and plops him over the thin paper, David giggling happily. "Are you ready?"

"Yep!" he grins, though she sees him flinch a little as her hands come near his forehead.

"Hmm," she hums, making a show out of studying his cut. "I don't think there will be a scar," she smiles, then meets Derek's eyes for the first time. "What do you think, Dr. Shepherd?"

Derek's eyes are sparkling. "I agree with your assessment, Dr. Grey," he replies coyly. Is he flirting? Or is she so smitten that she hears him flirting even when he's just amusing his own son?

This is all kinds of bad.

"And even if there is a scar, scars make you brave," she concludes, trying to make the boy feel better.

"My Daddy has a scar just like mine," David shrugs, then tugs at Derek's hand. "See?" he says, brushing away Derek's curls to reveal his forehead. Their faces are practically aligned.

Derek's eyes are so blue. So, so blue. She gulps.

"I can see. Did he fall on the coffee table too?" She asks, joking, in order to avoid looking at how blue Derek's eyes are.

"He crashed a bike," David says seriously. "Nana was real mad."

"I bet. Was he a little boy like you or older?"

"I'm not little," David retorts, and it brings a smile to her face. "And Daddy was in school already."

"College. I was twenty-one and I crashed a motorbike, not a normal bike."

Her eyes widen. Derek Shepherd, on a motorbike. Wow. She's...nope, not going there. Not thinking about him and leather jackets and straddling things. She'd be the one doing the straddling either way.

Stop.

She takes a big gulp of air, disposing of the stitches to clear her head, avoiding the boyish smirk on her intern's face. Intern should be enough of a turn off, even without the kid currently dangling his legs off the exam table, but neither deterrent seems to be working.