𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

twenty seven | tremor

"Cereal in bed, doing puzzles. . .and no sex."

His legs dangle from the edge of the bed as he works through today's The New York Times crossword puzzle.

"Be glad I'm letting you on my bed, Shepherd."

"Oh, believe me, I am grateful."

He nods in the direction of the dog, who's pouting on his pillow after being told no when he tried to jump onto the bed.

"You and I, we've both had bad relationships before each other." My feet bury themselves under the covers. "So, taking it slow is the only way to go."

"Am I dating Dr. Seuss?"

"Well, was that hard to deduce?"

Dropping the newspaper, he crawls up my hidden figure and pulls me into him. A lively giggle flies from my lips.

Creak.

"Derek." I whisper against his lips. "You have to hide."

"What? Why?" He frowns for a moment before resuming his movement.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

"Hide in the closet."

"Leven —"

"Hide in the damn closet before they see you!"

I push him off the bed into the walk-in closet. Scar sits up with his ears perked in interest. Just as the door opens, I fall onto the bed.

"Mer. Cristina." I smile kindly. "I gave you copies of my key for emergencies only."

"Yeah, well, I had a buy-one-get-two-free coupon to the coffee shop, and I thought you two could use some coffee."

Meredith climbs into bed next to me while Cristina perches herself on the armchair in the corner of the room.

"Everything alright?" Mer glances over at me. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

My gaze darts to the closet repeatedly, making sure he's out of view. However, Scar does nothing to hide the fact there's a man in my closet. He keeps staring at the door, lips curled in a snarl.

"We should get to the hospital, shouldn't we?"

"We've got plenty of —"

"No. No, Bailey said she wanted us to come in. . .early. Today."

"Alright, alright." Cristina's the first to get up. "Oh, by the way, why do you have a pair of men's shoes at the front doorstep?"

"Lennox left them behind."

"Uh-huh."

"You know him. . .always forgets to take his shoes with him."

"You're a really bad liar."

"Yeah, I know."

Thankfully, though, they don't question me about the true owner of the shoes, simply leaving with their cups of coffee.

"We wouldn't have this problem if you just told them."

"And I will. . .when the time's right."

"By the way, when do I get a key to your apartment?"

"You want to get rid of your bed privileges? If so, keep talking."

With his hands raised in surrender, the neurosurgeon leaves with an endearing grin. I sit back against the headboard once he sees himself out.

A car plowing through a fish market causes the E.R. to be packed with patients, ranging from minor scratches to needing surgery.