DISCLAIMER: Obviously Grey's Anatomy isn't mine, because if it was, I wouldn't be sitting here at my laptop, I'd be living in the Bahamas lounging with some hot guy in a spa.

Chapter One; My Command

Meredith rolled onto her side, feeling for Derek on 'his side' of the mattress. Instead of meeting his warm chest, she instead found herself clutching the cool sheets. It took a couple of minutes, and then she remembered that he was away. She hated all the conferences he had to attend as chief, but she definitely understood why he had to go. Since the shooting, the hospital's reputation had suffered and Derek's networking at these conferences was inspiring some of the world's most well-known surgeons to moonlight at Seattle Grace – Mercy West (or SGMW as they referred to it usually). The most recent addition to his star-studded list had been Doctor Preston Burke, who had recently won his second Harper Avery award, for his work in atrial reconstructions. Of course Cristina was far from impressed, but it did warrant a few newspaper articles about SGMW "regaining its footing after a trying six months".

This was beside the point, Meredith realised as she still held the cold sheets. The point was that Derek wasn't here, and this was the fourth morning in a row that she'd woken up to an empty bed, and no morning sex, or shower sex, or a quickie on the kitchen counter during breakfast. She could deal with it for a weekend, but by the fourth day she was beginning to get crabby. Luckily, Derek was due to return today and Meredith knew that he would be looking forward to being home just as much as she was looking forward to having him there.

She reluctantly rolled over, and stumbled out of bed, walking into the shower where she used her favourite lavender shampoo before walking downstairs and leaving the house, with a travel cup of coffee and a chocolate-chip cookie clenched between her teeth. She waved at Lucy, their trusty Labrador and got into the jeep, driving onto the ferry and across Seattle to SGMW. As she wandered into the residents lounge, she saw Cristina sitting cross-legged on the floor. She plonked herself down, and lay her head on Cristina's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Cristina asked, flipping through a patient's chart.
"Nothing," Meredith mumbled through a mouthful of hot coffee.
"Is it work?"
"No."
"Is it your dog?"
"Lucy's fine."
"Well, if it's not work or your McDog, then I have to assume it's about McDreamy."
"Day number four of no sex," grumbled Meredith.
"Have you guys never had a dry spell?" Izzie asked from across the room.
"A dry spell is what happens when Derek has early surgery and there's no time for a quickie in the morning. Four days isn't a dry spell, it's a drought. A sexless drought."
"Okay Mer," Izzie cleared her throat. "We get it. You have a lot of sex."
"Eurgh, no." Meredith sighed. "That's not really the problem. I don't know, I'm just feeling like crap. I've got this stupid headache and I'm feeling nauseous."
"At least we know it's not appendicitis," Alex quipped.
"Do you think you could be pregnant?" Izzie asked excitedly. "You guys have been trying, right?"
"I just got off my period Iz," Meredith muttered. "I'm not pregnant. I'm just sick, and lonely and sexually dissatisfied."

Later in the day, after Meredith instructed all her interns in their menial tasks, she made her way up to Derek's office and let herself in, where she promptly lay down and fell asleep on the couch. The next thing she sensed was a cool hand stroking her hair and a voice that sounded uncannily like Derek's, asking how she was feeling. She fluttered open her eyelids, and saw Derek standing there.
"Der," she exclaimed quietly, wincing as the nausea took over once more.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned for his very pale wife.
"Just a little sick. Nothing major," she said, before looking startled and grabbing a nearby waste basket.
"It's time for you to go home," Derek told her after she finished expelling the contents of her stomach into the bin. "You're too sick to be here."
"I'm fine," Meredith complained. "I just missed you."
"I missed you too," he replied with a smile. "I'll ask Webber to cover for me, and I'll take you home so you can sleep in our bed. Just let me sort out a few things and I'll be right down in the lobby."
"I'll grab my bag," Meredith muttered. "See you soon, Der."
He leaned down to kiss her, but she pushed his face away.
"Vomit breath," she said, as way of explanation.
"I can handle the vomit breath," he replied, kissing her gently. "I missed my wife."
"And I missed you too," she said, returning his kiss and then leaving the room.

Ten minutes later, Derek had gotten Webber to cover the rest of his day and Meredith had proceeded to throw up twice more. They drove home in silence, leaving the jeep in the parking lot so that Meredith could sleep. When they got to the door of their beautiful home, built on Derek's land, Derek carried her across the threshold and up to their bed where she slept fitfully for a few hours. He woke her to give her a glass of water and a piece of dry toast, before leaving her once more. She slept through the night, and then woke up early in the morning, feeling much better but utterly exhausted.

"Good morning beautiful," Derek smiled, already sitting up in bed and reading yesterday's newspaper.
"Morning," Mer croaked, pushing her blonde hair out of her face.
"Feeling better?"
"Much. I'm really tired but at least I no longer feel like I'm going to puke all over my annoying interns."
"Well, as much as they deserve to be puked on, I'm glad you're feeling better," Derek replied. "I already called Richard and asked for another day off work, and a day of sick leave for you. Now you can feel free to go back to sleep, or you could shower? I could bring you some breakfast if you're hungry."
"Sleep," Meredith mumbled. "Sleep is good."

By the time she woke up, six hours later, she felt utterly refreshed and almost as good as new. She could smell something cooking downstairs and she felt well enough to explore and find out what Derek was cooking.
"Hey," Derek smiled, seeing her walk into the kitchen. "You look much better now."
"Oh gee thanks," Meredith laughed dryly. "I think you look awesome too."
"You know what I mean," Derek sighed, pulling her close and kissing her. "Ready for lunch?"
"Definitely. I'm actually feeling pretty good. I'll see how this food goes."

Derek served her a plate of ricotta ravioli and a tomato-based Napoli sauce, sprinkling on a little parmesan before passing it over.
"Yum," Meredith smiled. "Thanks Der. You're probably the best husband I've had."
"Oh really?" he laughed. "Who are the other contenders?"
"Well surgery, obviously, but that's not nearly as fun to come home to," she grinned. "I think your main competition is Danny Sharp."
"Danny Sharp? Sounds a little scary," Derek teased.
"Oh Danny and I had great chemistry. He stole my sandwich and so I poured his chocolate milk on the ground. The next day he gave me a piece of strawberry chewing gum and told me he loved me. So we got married and lived happily ever after... until he moved to Oregon and took custody of the strawberry Hubba Bubba."
"How old exactly were you and Danny?" Derek asked.
"I was seven. He was six."
"Oh, cradle-snatcher."
"Shut up Der."

She ate some of the pasta, and it settled well, the feelings of nausea stayed away and she smiled at Derek encouragingly.
"Thank-you, that's just what I needed."
"Well that's what I'm here for, dear. Anything else you need?"

She stood up from the table and pulled him up to stand next to her.
"Well," she said coyly, reaching a hand down between them to unzip his fly. "I could really do with some TLC right now."
"Are you sure?" Derek asked, concerned.
Meredith pulled off her ratty Dartmouth shirt, standing before him in nothing more than a pair of very tiny black panties, the ones that she'd lost in the dirty exam room sex.
"I'm definitely sure," she said, kissing him once more.
"Your wish," Derek said, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. "Is my command."