The First Time

15.

Mark looked up from the television startled, as Derek walked in through the door. "Wh ... what are you doing here?" he frowned.

"I live here." Derek stated plainly.

"I know that. But ... I wasn't expecting to see you tonight. Izzie told me that Meredith had some special dinner all lined up for you and that I shouldn't expect to see you until the morning." Mark informed him. "She'd even organized to stay at a friend's place tonight to give you two some privacy." He added, raising his eyebrows with a knowing smile on his face.

"Well Izzie was wrong. Wasn't she?" Derek said moving to the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

"Okay. Don't bite my head off." Mark shrugged. "So I gather that the dinner wasn't all that special?" he asked somewhat rhetorically.

Derek sighed deeply. He hadn't realized that Izzie wasn't going to be home for the night. It just made him feel even worse. Meredith really had pulled out all the stops for tonight and yet he'd almost run away. He could have still been with her ... curled up together in her bed ... but he had fled the scene scared because he knew that he couldn't have stayed much longer without losing control.

He wondered what sort of reaction he'd get from Mark if he actually told him about what had transpired during the course of the evening. The fact that she'd had him naked within moments of entering the apartment, the fact that Meredith had been as well (except for that frilly see through excuse for an apron which had only made him want her even more), the book, the food, Meredith as a serving platter, Meredith's pert breasts sitting on top of the coffee table as they fed one another, Meredith eating off him, Meredith eating him ...

Derek shook his head trying to rid himself of the thoughts before he changed his mind and turned around and rushed back to her.

Telling Mark was never going to happen. It was something between he and Meredith that Derek had no intention of ever sharing. Derek realized that Mark was still watching him. "Dinner was ..." Derek looked for the right word but came up with nothing.

"Was?" Mark prompted.

Derek thought for a few more moments and then nodded. "Yep it was."

"Was what?" Mark asked again, now even more confused.

"It just was." Derek said wanting nothing more than to escape into his room and ponder how he was going to get through the next 10 days.

"Is she a bad cook or something?" Mark asked.

Derek just shook his head still thinking about all the trouble that Meredith had gone to.

"Even if she is ... I'm sure that you could have found something else to keep you occupied for the night." Mark said nudging his friend with his elbow as Derek joined him on the couch in front of the TV.

Derek said nothing. Still not able to get the image of a naked but hurt Meredith as she sat on her bed when he'd told her that nothing would be happening that night. Thinking back, he realized now just how much trouble she'd gone to, to set everything up. Maybe he was only hurting her by not following through and finishing things off. But that was just it, he didn't want to finish things, he thought that they were just starting something. Something special. But he wasn't sure that she felt the same way.

Mark was perplexed by Derek's reactions. Things between Derek and Meredith had seemed to have been going really well. Had something happened tonight to change that? "So things between the pair of you are ...." Mark started hoping that Derek would supply the ending.

Derek hesitated for a moment and then offered up as explanation "We're taking it slow."

Mark started to laugh. He thought about Derek and his very obvious appeal to women. Hell - Mark did well with the opposite sex, but Derek almost had to beat them off with a stick- his quiet brood seemed to really turn the ladies on. And then he thought about Meredith, hot, sexy, legs that went for ever and obviously totally smitten with Derek, and the thought of them 'taking it slow' was almost too ridiculous to imagine. God ... they'd almost been humping on the dance floor at the bar last night. The more that he thought about them 'taking it slow' the harder he laughed.