Where You Belong

92

Eyes closed, Meredith inhaled, the air crisp and clear with just a hint of salt from the ocean. A cool line of water rose from mid-calf up to mid-thigh, and then fell back down, before rising again. Over and over and over in the relatively regular rhythm of the ocean waves.

The last time she had been in the water – a week ago in Hawaii where she had barely gone past her knees while Izzy and Cristina swam – she had quickly been elevated to a nine. Now she was much lower.

A five. Maybe even a four.

The water was warm and smooth. Inviting, even.

With a sigh, she opened her eyes. The sun was bright, despite her sunglasses.

Derek squeezed her hand. "How're you doing?" He stood beside her, patient and supportive, his fingers threaded through hers.

She offered him a smile. "Four."

"Four is good." He shuffled forward through the water, tugging on her hand, knowing she needed a slight push.

She followed him, trusting, until the water was up to his hips and low on her waist. This time when they came to a stop she tucked herself against his chest with a sigh. "It's warmer than your pond."

"It is," he agreed, looping his arms around her. After returning from the beach the night before, they had managed to fit in a fourth round before spooning together and falling asleep. By the time they woke they had long since missed breakfast in the resort restaurant, but had managed to order it to their room.

Swathed in a fluffy bathrobe, Meredith stepped out of the bathroom. She had ordered the meal this time while Derek showered first, and she had heard it being delivered as she had stepped out of her shower minutes before.

The suite was empty, but the patio doors were open. After a moment of debate, she decided the bathrobe was acceptable balcony wear.

Derek looked up from his omelette as she stepped out. He offered her a wry smile. "Healthy breakfast choice."

She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm as she collapsed onto the chair next to him and snatched her breakfast plate from the table. Pancakes. Fruit. Whipped cream. Syrup. "It has fruit."

"That's your argument? Really?"

She tried her best to glare at him. "At least mine's not full of cholesterol."

He huffed and took another bite of his omelette.

Feeling irrevocably safe in his arms, Meredith sighed. "I think I may be down to a three," she mumbled into his bare chest.

Derek kissed the top of her head and released her. "Good."

She moved forward, trusting him to follow her. The beach gradually declined into the water, so she took several steps before the water began to encroach on her shoulders.

"Now?" He questioned when she came to a stop.

"Maybe a three-point-five." She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, which she released slowly. Her heart was thumping in her chest, but not in a way that made her feel out of control. She had a healthy respect for water, and suspected she always would after her experience, but the lessons Derek had given her and the fact that he was right beside her gave her the confidence to be able to breathe.

She felt him reach for her hand, his warm grip grounding her, making her feel secure. She smiled and opened her eyes. The ocean spread out in front of her in a smooth blanket that sparkled from the midday sun. Quiet and inviting. Nothing like the cold, dark water of Elliot Bay.