summary: this time not a story about Meredith getting sick and Derek coming to the rescue... no, in this fic it's the other way around...

disclaimer: I would give a sweet thing to own Patrick Dempsey, but alas...

Part 1.

With his usual brisk stride, Derek Shepherd walked through the halls of Seattle Grace Hospital. He had just successfully completed a craniotomy during which he had removed a particularly difficult hematoma from the brain of a twenty-four-year old rugby player. The guy had suffered a nasty blow to the head during a game and was brought in with very little hope of complete recovery. But after this successful surgery Derek was confident that the chap had very good chances of leading a normal life, at only twenty-four ones brain was capable of overcoming an accident like this.

No need to say that Derek was pleased. With himself, with things going well today and with the fact that tonight in bed he could wrap his arms around a tiny girl that snored and that he could call his. He and Meredith slept together now for most of the nights, but Derek still felt happy whenever he realised she was his girlfriend.

One of the nurses came hurrying towards him, clutching a stack of paperwork.

"Doctor Shepherd? I need you to fill in these forms on the patient-dossiers. It's been piling up last week with the train-accident, but we need to have them in order before inspection comes next week." She shoved the papers in his arms.

"Ok. No problem."

"And Doctor Webber is asking if you've already made up your mind about the new neuro-surgical equipment he plans to purchase. He's expecting an recommendation plus argumentation from you on his desk by tomorrow afternoon at the very latest."

Darn, he'd completely forgotten about that.

"Sure. Tell him not to worry."

Arms loaded with paperwork Derek continued his walk down the hall. Crap, he hated paperwork. He'd have to work till very late tonight to get it all finished in time. Meredith would be asleep already. He suddenly felt tired.

Better to eat something first, and maybe start some of the paperwork during lunch. He had a spinal surgery scheduled for that afternoon, and preparation was needed for that.

On turning the corner towards the restaurant Derek nearly bumped into Chief Webber.

"Derek, you're just the man I was looking for. I hope you didn't forget our agreement about-"

"The recommendation for the neuro-equipment? I'm working on it, Chief, nearly done. Will be your desk tomorrow 1:00 PM sharp."

"I wasn't talking about that, Dr. Shepherd... I was talking about the application form for the National Research Project on Cranio-Tech Surgery in which our hospital is going to participate. We agreed that, as the area is your specialism, you would fill out the form and handle the further application process."

Derek cursed under his breath.

"Is there a problem, Dr. Shepherd? Can I safely assume that the application will be in order before the deadline, which is next Thursday?"

"Off course you can, Dr. Webber. I'll take care of it."

"Good." The Chief walked away, then turned on his heel to look at Derek. "And get some sleep, Shepherd. You look pale. Can't risk you getting sick in these busy times."

Derek walked further down the hall, past the nurse-station, but was called back to sign a report. For a moment he laid down the paperwork and rested his head in his hands. A dull ache in his skull made him close his eyes. Yes, he needed good nights' sleep, more than anything. He felt as if he could sleep a day, or a week, or forever. When he opened his eyes, the bright light turned the dull ache into a full blown, pounding headache that made him feel exhausted.

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love, Zimra