Fiction by zvi LikesTV

Stance on Warnings

Summary: Derek realizes that Meredith doesn't love him the best.
Notes: Written for the A Picture is Worth 1000 Words Challenge. The picture.

"When I said, 'Yes, I sleep with Cristina all the time,' I didn't mean it literally." She wrapped up the ugly blue mug and fished in the back of the cabinet for the matching green one. "Or, no, I didn't mean it figuratively. I did mean it literally," she said.

"You broke the green mug two months ago," said Derek. He put the blue mug in a box on top of a random assortment of mostly drug manufacturers' mugs. "And I figured that if you and Cristina were having sex you would be classy enough not to blurt it out during rounds."

"So why are you pissed?" Meredith started on the wine glasses.

"I'm not angry with you, Meredith. I just want to be with someone who loves me more than anyone else, and you're not that person."

Meredith rolled her eyes, and, in a move which not only made her feel like a fifteen year old freak, but probably made her look like one too, she pulled the hood of her hoodie up. Derek always kept the house too cold anyway. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're throwing me out because I have a best friend. That is so stupid!" She turned around and looked at him. "Why are you pretending to be Callie Torres?"

"I'm not throwing you out. I just—."

"Derek, you broke up with me while we were living together, and you want me to go and sleep in a different house tonight. In what universe is this not throwing me out?"

"I didn't say you had to sleep at your house! I just said I didn't want you to sleep in my bed, because there might be an accident."

"Like what? You'll wet the bed?" Derek rolled his eyes and Meredith rolled her eyes right back. "If you're afraid that we'd have sex and you would forget about your stupid, stupid fear of me having friends, then, yeah, there might be an accident." Meredith walked across the kitchen to the pantry, walked way in the back where Derek kept his completely ridiculous stock of smoked and dried meat.

Derek followed her inside, of course. "Are you packing my jerky, Meredith? You hate jerky; it's a little petty to wipe me out."

"I'm a surgeon. I can't hit things." She held up a hand and wiggled her fingers. "So, I'm going to chew very, very hard."

---

Cristina pulled the moving van to the front of the house, walked up to Meredith, and peered speculatively into her eyes. "Your lack of devastation is suspicious."

Meredith said, "I'm pissed. I'll be devastated later."

Cristina looked closely at her and said, "I don't think so."

Meredith narrowed her eyes and stomped into the house, picked up the first box. "I could add you to my shitlist."

"Then there wouldn't be a shield between you and Izzie and George and their sympathy." Cristina took the box from her.

"Alex and Lexie wouldn't be nice to me."

"But they wouldn't protect you either," said Cristina, and turned and walked back to the truck.

---

"Is that the last box?" said George, watching Meredith stagger into the kitchen with a box about the right size for books.

"Yes," said Cristina. She was draped across the arm of the couch, head hanging over the side. "Go home. Take Lexie with you."

Lexie frowned and said, "But Meredith promised—"

"Tomorrow," said Cristina. "There will be bribery meals tomorrow. Just get the hell out. And, hey, if you can convince Kharev and Blondie to go with you, good."

Lexie just rolled her eyes and walked out, snagging George on the way.

Meredith came out of the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

Cristina turned her head to look at Meredith. "Avoiding a chiropractor."

"Okay." Meredith came out of the doorway and sat on the couch. "I need you to sit up now."

Cristina rolled her way up and slid down onto the couch cushions, put her arms around Meredith. "Are you going to cry? I'll go get tissues if you're going to cry."

"No," said Meredith, and she turned and kissed Cristina on the mouth.

Cristina did not respond, but she didn't let go.

"Did that do anything for you?" asked Meredith.

"Not a lot. It wasn't horrible. But I'm not gay."

"Neither am I!"

Cristina just raised an eyebrow at her.

"Derek thinks I love you more than him. That's why he dumped me. So, I was trying it. Just to see."

"Okay," said Cristina. "See, the thing is, you do love me more than him, but not in the same way as him."

"Are you sure?" asked Meredith. "Because it would make sense of why I can't make things work with Derek and why I'm not all that upset we broke up this time and, just—" she shrugged as well as she could in the circle of Cristina's arms, "—I'm sick of men, but I'm not at all sick of you."

"Meredith. Do you want to have sex with me?" Cristina spoke each word slowly and distinctly, as if for an extremely non-compliant patient.

"Not so much, no."

"I rest my case."

---

Meredith, wrapped up in blanket, shuffled to the couch. "Cristina, come upstairs."

Cristina turned her head away and clutched more tightly at her pillow without waking up.

Meredith poked her. "I can't sleep."

Cristina turned to face her, blinked slowly. "Is someone dying? I told you—." She blinked again and sat up. "Meredith?"

"Come to bed with me." Meredith knelt down beside the couch, and put a hand on Cristina's arm. "I can't sleep."

"You made a pass at me."

"You told me I didn't mean it!" Meredith scrubbed tiredly at her face. "On my honor, I promise to leave your virtue alone."

Cristina sat up. "Have you been drinking?"

"I have to be drunk to want you to sleep with me? You sleep with me a lot! That's why Derek—"

Cristina shook her head. "When you're drunk, you'll fuck anyone."

"Oh," said Meredith. "That's pretty much…accurate. Okay. No. No, I'm not drunk."

"Alright, I'm coming."

"Good."

"You're my coffeebitch tomorrow."

Since they were now safely at the top of the stairs, she gave Cristina a hug, made only slightly awkward by the bedding wrapped around the both of them.

"Seriously?" said Cristina.

"Yes, seriously."