We've Got To Stop Meeting Like This

Feels Like This

The two weeks she'd spent in New York had finally come to an end, and that she was grateful for. When her mother had insisted Meredith spend her last two weeks of freedom before her internship started with her, she severely underestimated how much it would drain her. The idea was to have a relaxing two-week break in New York, but it had turned into a lot of hanging around at the hospital waiting for Ellis to finish in surgery — which benefited her really, as it allowed her to spend more time in the viewing galleries. Then there was the intern mixer that she had been dragged along to by Ellis, almost as if to say this could be you, Meredith.

It was a long-lasting debate between the pair, and Ellis was still too proud to admit defeat. She wanted Meredith where she could keep an eye on her, under the roof of her own hospital, probably to steer her into General Surgery, inherit her mother's legacy. Meredith had been adamant to not work in the same hospital as her. She didn't need the benefits that would surely come with it, or the special treatment. She didn't want to specialise in General Surgery – her passion was in neurosurgery.

Now, she was sat in the hotel bar, having escaped from the function room next door after spending a respectable amount of time and excusing herself with talk of an early flight, and saying goodbye to her mother of course. She was probably a little too overdressed to be sat at the bar on her own, but she didn't care much for others' opinions. The dress actually made her feel good about her almost stick-thin figure. She downed another tequila shot, turning the glass upside down in front of her. She probably shouldn't be drinking so much before flying out in the morning, but it's nothing she hadn't done before. She had a fairly high tolerance for tequila by now.

She glanced to her side as the stool beside her became occupied, which only drew her attention as all the other stools were still empty. Why choose to sit beside the only occupied stool? She gave a small smile to the bartender who passed her another tequila shot and looked down at the small glass in front of her, her fingertip tracing the outline of the top of the glass.

She heard the voice of the male sat beside her speak to the bartender to order his own drink, but didn't pay attention to what was actually said as her fingers wrapped around the shot glass, downing the golden, harsh liquid in one swift movement.
She felt eyes on her but ignored them, at which point the voice spoke again, directly to her this time, "You're going to be sorry in the morning."

She gave a small laugh, not lifting her gaze from the bar in front of her, as much as her mind was pulling her to just turn her head to see who the voice belonged to, she muttered softly with a small shrug, "I'm always sorry in the morning."

When she continued to feel his eyes on her, she couldn't resist the temptation of her curiosity, and looked to her side at the young looking male, probably around the same age as her. Her eyes glossed over the suit he was wearing. Expensive suit. Her gaze fixed on a name badge. Derek Shepherd, Surgical Intern. A short laugh escaped her lips as she realised, he must have been at the intern mixer, although she definitely would've remembered seeing him there. She then looked up at his questioning eyes, ready to explain her small outburst, but was almost frozen to the core by the eyes that looked back at her. The deep blue, curious eyes that had her in an almost trance. If she wasn't mistaken, he seemed to have the same problem as her. She shook her head a little as though to shake the image from her mind as the bartender placed another shot in front of her, an unspoken agreement between them.

She cleared her throat a little, her lips pressed together, momentarily forgetting the tequila that beckoned her as she looked back to the stranger, "Let me guess, you're starting your internship at New York Pres next week?"

He nodded, his eyes still showing his curiosity in her as he furrowed his brow slightly, "And you?"

She shook her head slightly, a small smirk on her lips as she realised, he definitely didn't know who she was. It was almost refreshing. She turned to face forward again in the stool as she swallowed the tequila, enjoying the familiar burn in her throat as it went down, a soft hum sounding from her lips before she gave him a little more detail to her answer, "Just a... guest, you could say."