𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

sixty six | wedding

". . .it doesn't look too bad. You just gotta keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn't get any bigger. But if it changes color, you should see a doctor."

"Dr. Shepherd."

"Hmm?"

A pair of dark gray metal bars separate me from my husband. The men in the waiting cell wave in familiarity while I keep a strong glare on him.

"Third time this week, Derek."

"Your lady is pissed."

The entire drive from the police station to the elevator at the hospital consists of me yelling and him muttering quirky comments.

"If you keep this up, I'm just gonna leave you there."

"You said that already."

Cristina and Meredith, both of whom are already dressed in their blue scrubs, walk across the floor in front of the elevator.

"Derek got his ass locked in the waiting cell again." I rant to them. "For reckless endangerment again."

"Did he lose his license yet?" Cristina asks while seemingly distracted by a bridal magazine.

"Why would they charge him? The police worship the ground he walks on."

"Because I saved some of their lives."

Although still upset with his carelessness towards the situation, I silently allow him to take the coat off of my shoulders.

Meredith passes along a few photos of dresses. "We're picking a dress color since Cristina refuses to wear white."

"It's sexist and. . .vaguely racist."

"No white, no veil, no rice, apparently."

"What about your mother? What's she gonna say to your choices in the wedding?"

"Easy. No mother."

Derek circles a dainty arm around my waist, silent kisses to the jaw just begging for me to forgive him.

"Blue would look good, don't you think?"

"I like the brown, too."

"Oh, the red is just stunning."

Unnoticed by the others, a pair of nurses swing open the double doors for the four surgeons, where a crowd of doctors, nurses, and hospital staff stand dispersed.

They applaud at the return of their chief of surgery.

"Uh, yes, good morning. Thank you. Thank you very much."

Derek momentarily leaves my side to the top of the staircase.

"It's, uh, it's great to be back. First of all, I'd like to thank Dr. Webber for stepping up in my absence."

Another round of applause follows suit.

"I'm grateful for all of you, for all of your support during Leven's recovery. Thank you. It's just, uh, so great to be back. . .as chief. I'm grateful for the, uh. . .I'm sorry. That's a lie."

My attention is grabbed by his next statement.

"That's what people say, and the, uh, truth is. . .I hate being chief. I hate it."

He looks towards the former chief.

"Chief Webber. . .Chief Webber is our chief. I, um, I'm sorry, but. . .I quit."

Running down the remaining steps, Derek drags April — and the film of his awaiting chordoma — towards the E.R..

". . .I thought couples were supposed to talk before making grave decisions. Were you even thinking when you were up there?"

"No, I had plenty of time to do that in the last three months."

Derek passes me the brown paper bag — likely containing a nutritious, balanced meal of soup, a banana, and a jello cup.

"How could you have done that if you couldn't spare a moment away from me?"

- - - - - - - - - -

"Hey, there, Paul."

"Morning, Mrs. Shepherd."

The all-too-familiar security guard motions me towards the first holding cell — the only holding cell they'll place him in.

"Hey." Derek struts to the metal bars. "I just went out to get some ice."

"How much was it this time, Paul?"

"Double the speed limit, ma'am."

He puckers his lips between two bars. "Don't be mad. I promise, we'll make the wedding."

"Well, I will." A hand grazes over his tie before yanking it closer, just enough to grasp the velvet black box in his suit pocket. "You know, it'll be nice to know you're safe and out of a speeding vehicle for once."

"You can't leave me here." He calls out after me. "I'm the best man."

"Not anymore, actually. I've taken your spot."

"You're lying."

"Love you, Shepherd."

"Leven?"

A short, under-the-speed-limit drive brings me to the Meredith Grey household — one that has opened its arms and walls to a plethora of Seattle Grace doctors.

"Good, you haven't made a run for it." I greet Owen with a playful glint. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am. Uh, Derek?" The ginger glances over my shoulder and frowns at the lack of his presence.

"Derek won't be coming."

In more ways than one.

"The bastard's been driving over the speed limit, and I'm fed up with his behavior. So he'll be in an S.P.D. holding cell until further notice."

"But he's my best man."

"I know. But Cristina doesn't need two maids of honor, so. . .would you mind if I stepped in?"

And so begins the tale of Leven Phoenix: The Best Man.

Meredith walks Cristina down the staircase, similar smiles gracing their faces. I slip the box into Owen's palm before stepping out with the older Grey.

"You know, the groomsmen and bridesmaids usually hook up after a wedding." I whisper to her down the makeshift aisle. "Something about the exchange of vows that inflames one's hormones."

"Are you suggesting we hook up, Phoenix? Because last time I checked, you were a married woman." Her elbow digs into my ribcage.

"Yes, but my bed's empty for the night."

"Are we thinking the same thing?"

"Only if you're thinking of having a slumber party."