A/N: I miss me some Derek and Addison. So, I thought I'd write one, although it's not so much about the happy ending. Anyways, this takes place sometime in season 3, probably later but it doesn't really matter. Inspired by Addison's season 2 quote: "We didn't even bother to fight anymore, Derek."
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They had been dating for six months when they had their first real fight; a fight that extended beyond momentary raised voices and solutions that came in the form of immediate apologetic kisses.
They had yelled. They had called each other names. Addison had thrown things. Derek had mocked her, prompting more things to be launched at his head. It had culminated with Addison storming into her bedroom, slamming the door and declaring that he would sleep on the couch.
Derek had sighed and resigned himself to his fate, laying down on the couch and covering himself with the small afghan. He would later find it rather humorous that it had never occurred to him that he didn't have to stay at Addison's, that he could have very well driven back to his own apartment and slept in his own bed. But, he would also later decide, sleeping with Addison had become such habit he didn't know any different.
It had taken several hours, but, finally, a teary-eyed Addison had emerged from her bedroom softly calling his name. They had both apologized, vowing never to fight again, and Derek had followed her back into the bedroom so that they could make up for their transgressions through making love.
Of course, they had fought again. They were Addison and Derek, known more for their fiery tempers and irritating stubbornness than anything else. At first the fights were rare and ended quickly in much the same manner as their first one, but things eventually started to change. Fights were coming in rapid succession, often overlapping so that they were often carrying on two and three arguments at a time.
And then, it had stopped. Fighting was hard work and ignoring their tempers in favor of surgery and other pastimes was much easier. The absence of fighting also brought with it the absence of passion and the absence of any portrayals of love. They had once gone for 28 days without having sex; it couldn't even be termed making love because, at that time, it had felt more about duty than love.
That was around the time Addison had gotten really stupid. She'd allowed herself to be wooed by Derek's best friend's compassionate ways. She'd allowed herself to stop pestering Derek about his absence. And, with the help of some of Derek's scotch, she'd allowed herself to sleep with Mark Sloan.
Addison sighed as she looked through the window of her car to the trailer nearly nine months after the culmination of her stupidity, realizing that she would give anything to replace the emptiness that accompanied the divorce papers she was here to deliver with the pain of those very first fights.
But she refused to allow herself to hope for the pain for long. She would need all her strength to enter the trailer and face her husband, and, even with all her strength, Addison wasn't sure she could really handle it because she knew what she would find when he opened the door to the trailer.
There wouldn't be a trace of apology or guilt in his eyes. Instead, they would look at her with disinterest as he held his hand out impatiently waiting for the papers. He would listen, out of obligation, as she explained what he was agreeing to by signing them. Then he would grab a pen out of his briefcase and scribble his name on the line, not even pausing to realize he was ending a third of his life. They would exchange a few words after this, pleasantries mostly, before he would expect Addison to leave.
And her marriage would be over. There would be no more fights, no more screaming matches. No more make up sex. No more Addison and Derek.
Addison glanced at her watch and reached for the packet of papers, deciding she couldn't prolong the inevitable any longer. With a sense of purpose, she exited the car and made her way to the front door of the trailer. Before she could get the chance to chicken out, Addison knocked on the door and waited for him to answer.
It took only a few moments for Derek to open the door, wearing only black lounge pants and a towel draped around his shoulder, "Addison."
Addison didn't miss the disappointment in his voice, "Can I come in? I have the papers."
Derek glanced down at her hand and stepped away from the door, "Sure, whatever."
Addison entered the trailer, handing Derek the papers as she went to lean against the counter.
"The trailer, the land, it's yours," Addison told him, "I get half of our sale from the house in the Hamptons and my clothing. The rest is yours."
Derek cocked an eyebrow in disbelief, "You don't want any of it?"
"Derek, we haven't honestly fought in three years, I'm not about to resurrect that now," She retorted, "Not for something as trivial as this."
"Trivial?" Derek wondered in disbelief.
"Are you trying to pick a fight?" Addison was finding that being short and temperamental with him was much easier than emotional and hurt, "Just sign the damn papers, Derek."
Derek gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes as he fished in his briefcase for a pen. He withdrew the writing utensil and gave the papers a quick glance before signing on the line next to the one that already contained Addison's signature. At that, he shoved the papers in her direction.
"I'll take them to City Hall tomorrow," She told him, "And this will be over."
Derek wasn't paying any attention to her at this time; his head was buried in his briefcase. So Addison sent him a quick glance goodbye and started for the door. She was most of the way outside before Derek spoke.
"This is unlike us," He mused softly.
"Huh?" She turned around, not even sure she had heard him.
"This, the way we're ending this, it's not at all like us," He clarified, "You haven't really yelled at me once."
"We don't fight anymore, Derek," Addison sighed, "That was the whole problem."
"Not fighting?"
"Fighting proved that we cared. It was kind of like breathing," She explained, "It worked as communication there for a while."
Derek took a moment to consider this before responding, "I think that is probably very true."
Addison nodded in agreement, not making a move to continue her trip out the door but also not adding anything to the conversation.
"No one ever fought with me like you did, Addie," Derek told her softly, sadness edging into his voice almost imperceptibly.
As soon as the familiar nickname escaped his lips, Addison stiffened. They both knew he'd given up any right to call her that, but she didn't mention it. Because, signed divorce papers in hand or not, he was still the man she'd married 12 years before and it was comforting to hear him use it.
"I know," She agreed, "But fighting was never enough to keep us together, Derek. Sure, it kept us going for a long time, and it wasn't the only thing we had. But we relied on it too much."
Derek nodded, his eyes constantly scanning her face.
"Maybe it's time for us to learn how to coexist with someone without fighting," She mused, "Even our tempers are too fickle to last forever."
"I know you're right," Derek reached out, instinctively, and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "Besides, no one could ever manage to fight as well as we did."
"We were Addison and Derek," She answered matter of factly, "It was what we did best."
"Yeah, it was."
They both knew no more needed to be said. Addison gave him a bittersweet smile before turning and walking out of the trailer, without a fight.