A/N : So here's my first fic. Ever. Please go easy on me. This story is basically set after 6x12 "I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked" and takes a few steps forward to a few weeks. It's about the near end of Derek's role as interim chief and how his brief stint affected him and Mer. To clear a few things, Richard just suddenly disappeared after the last episode, clearly taking Derek's cold treatment as a wake up call. This will most probably end up as a oneshot or twoshot, conceived by my desire to see Mer and Der handle with something eventually inevitable, with, well, um, a sense of normalcy that they often lack (hello, Post-it wedding). Read and review. That's the standard procedure. I'll stop talking now.

Chapter 1: An Empty Space

There's an empty space in the bed.

That was all Meredith Grey could think about as she lay in the dark room, clad in her favorite red robe. Usually, a chatty figure would occupy the left side of her queen sized bed, snuggling against her; she even found it oddly endearing that a person who stands for hours in the OR poking at people's brains could even muster small talk in soft cushions that trumpeted sleep.

He would go on about his patients, often finding a way to put themselves in their shoes; of how, unlike this couple, they would never go to the Space Needle only to see the other fall over a flight of stairs and suffer from a subdural hemorrhage; or of how this cute little girl with an aneurysm he had operated on looked just like her.

It made her smile. But looking at the well-made sheets pushed her deeper into contemplation. Her chatty husband still wasn't home—and hasn't been for two days. And as much as she doesn't want to admit it, she missed him badly.

Ever since Derek took over as Chief of Surgery, they barely had a minute's worth of decent conversation. Now he was caught up with administrative duties and follow-ups for their recent clinical trial. A few weeks ago, he was there, sleepy, yes, but mumbling about something incoherent…or was it just her exhaustion filtering her husband's gab? Crap. She mumbles, and then lets out an audible chuckle in spite of herself. I'm covered in wifey.

True, she was Dark and Twisty inside. But Derek Shepherd lets out what her 'person' calls "mushy domesticatedness." And strangely enough, she loved it.

You have changed.

Cristina, she thought. There's this undercurrent of happiness she'd learned to detect from her best friends' snide comments, and again, it made her smile.

Like other married couples, though, Post-it or otherwise, arguments, misunderstandings and such are inevitable. Like the one they had the day before he officially became interim chief. That one culminated in a hot, steamy kiss but the most recent one left a bitter wedge and lingered on. They agreed to discuss it when they finally had the time. With a slight pang, they carried on with Post-it marital bliss…

It was lunchtime at Seattle Grace Mercy West.

They were both extremely busy but they found a way to spend a brief twenty minutes in Derek's office, enthusiastically chatting about their colleagues; or at least Derek was.

He noticed a change in his wife's demeanor. She hasn't been herself lately, he thought. So he tried to lighten the mood.

"You should talk to Cristina about Owen," he chuckles, "Do you know that he calls you two the 'Twisted Sisters'?"

Meredith wasn't paying attention. And she was fidgeting with her wrist watch again. He was about to say something but as if on cue, "Richard has been calling me," She blurted out of the blue.

Her brow furrowed at the memory.

A few minutes later, the alarm clock flashed midnight. I should get some sleep. Sitting up ever so slowly to prevent the inevitable spinning of the room, she stood up thankfully without the urge to hurl into the toilet, for the nth time today. Meredith walked across the room and closed the door.

When she got back to bed, her phone suddenly vibrated.

Incoming Call: Derek

Grinning ear to ear, she immediately put on the receiver, "Hello?"

"Hey," a soft raspy voice sang.

"Hey," was all she could say, what with the exhaustion and the lingering migraine.

"Sorry, if I didn't drop by the lounge before you left," Derek sighed. "I was caught up with the board. How are you?" He seemed tired, worn-out even, but his voice never failed to send shivers down her spine.

"Mmmmm..Imfine," she garbled. A soft chuckle answered her back.

"I see. It's late. You should get some sleep," he said, before hesitantly adding, "Sorry again for what happened last night. I knew I should've…"

"Der," she cut him. "We will talk about this." Among other things. "I'm fine. I have the morning off tomorrow. Just finish whatever you need to finish." She added, the last sentence a little sharper than she intended.

"Okay."

"'Kay"

"Good night."

"G'night"

"I'll see you in the morning."

"''Kay"

"I love you, Mer." There it was. There came that sweet, inevitable remark, and she once again, found herself swooning.

Feeling squeamish, she hung up and rolled to her side, silently preparing herself for tomorrow's confrontation. No rambling, unless you want to make it as awkward as it already is…

Part of being all bright and shiny included open communication with your husband, she thought. This could be easy for them. If only things weren't so complicated.

She sighed. Tomorrow was the day she would finally tell him. He was getting worried and guilty as it is. Meredith looked over the nightstand, and there it was; a white stick with two pink lines. People's exhibit A, she thought bitterly, before sleep and exhaustion took over her.

Right now, it was just her and the empty space.

---A/N So there. First fic. YAY for me! Again, it could probably be a twoshot, but with the right reviews,*hint, hint* I might try to squeeze my brain to expand the fic or seriously continue it altogether. I'm open to possibilities; like say, giving this fic away? I'm always dead busy and this fic has been rotting in my PC for like -ever. Well, it depends on how I'm convinced. Thanks for reading :]