A/N: This little song-fic was inspired by Eve 6's "Here's to the Night." I heard it while I was on a run, and thought it might make a good Addison/Derek one-shot. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), my 'one-shot' ended up being much longer than expected – nearly 11,000 words (plus my author's notes), which seemed like a lot. So, I decided to split it up into three sections. But the entire story is written, so I should be able to post frequently. Anyway, I hope you like this story; I'd love to hear what you think. And as always, thanks so much for reading!
Here's to the Night
So denied. So, I lied.
Are you the now or never kind?
Derek walked into Joe's, hoping to go unnoticed. He didn't want to talk to anyone; he just wanted to drink.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one with that plan. Because sitting just a few barstools over, he saw Addison nursing a scotch.
She appeared to be alone. And she appeared to be about a glass and a half in (something he was easily able to gauge from having spent a third of his life with her).
He didn't know if she'd noticed him. And truth be told, he kind of hoped she hadn't. He didn't feel like talking to anybody. Especially her. Especially tonight. But when he looked up from his scotch, his bright blue eyes connected with her pale blue-green eyes, promptly putting an end to any lingering questions about whether or not she had seen him.
There's too much history – too many memories and broken promises – for them to be just a guy and a girl in a bar.
He knew he didn't want to talk to her. But apparently, that was just a lie he'd been telling himself; because suddenly he's standing up and walking over to her. Because despite his mastery of it over the past several months, tonight he's unable to ignore her.
"I'm surprised you're here," he said, sitting down next to her. That was a lie. He knew full well that Addison covered her emotions with alcohol. Well, alcohol and sex.
"What I meant to say," Derek clarified when he noticed Addison looking at him pointedly, "is that Joe's doesn't exactly strike me as your type of place."
Addison shrugged impassively. "Tonight, anywhere with alcohol is my type of place."
Derek gave a concessionary nod. "Touché."
"Plus," Addison continued, "Joe's calling me a cab at ten. Not all bars will do that."
"Yeah," Derek agreed as he knocked back his scotch. "I guess that's true."
xxxxx
How he ended up sharing a cab home with Addison, Derek didn't know. Okay, that was a lie too. It was simple, really. He had drunkenly asked; and she had drunkenly accepted.
But he hadn't meant to get out of the cab with her at her hotel. Also not true. He figured he'd press his luck by getting out of the cab with her, and if she said something about it, he'd get back in the cab, and go home to his trailer. But she didn't say anything.
She easily breezed past the front desk of the hotel towards the elevators. But he didn't.
"Excuse me," the concierge said, blocking Derek's way, and denying him access to the elevators. "But all guests need to be announced."
"I'm here with Addison Shepherd," Derek explained as convincingly as he could. Though that part was actually true. "And you don't need to announce me," he continued. "I'm her husband." That part was technically true as well. At least until tomorrow.
In a day and a day, love, I'm gonna be gone for good again.
Derek eventually made it past the concierge, and Addison let him into her hotel room, where they quickly resumed their drinking.
"Is that what you're wearing tomorrow?" Derek asked, his eyes landing on the green and white Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress, hanging on the bathroom door.
"I…yeah."
"Really?" Derek asked in surprise. "That's what you're wearing when we sign our divorce papers tomorrow?"
Addison nodded. "What's wrong with it?" she asked, confused by her soon-to-be ex-husband's concern over her outfit choice and his critical tone.
"I just…you were wearing that dress when you found out that you got that article accepted in the American Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology," Derek explained. "That dress has a lot of good memories attached to it."
Addison swallowed thickly. Derek was right. She had completely forgotten. And truth be told, she kind of hated Derek for remembering. Derek – who had forgotten birthdays and anniversaries, and which bed sheets he liked best – somehow remembered this obscure detail from what had been a very important day in her medical career.
"Maybe I'll wear something else," she mumbled.
Derek shrugged flippantly. "It's your choice."
"Do you want some more scotch?" Addison asked, noticing that both of their glasses were empty.
"Yeah," Derek said appreciatively, as she refilled his glass. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Derek took a long sip of his scotch, feeling the alcohol burn the back of his throat.
"Don't get too drunk," Addison warned, noticing that look in her soon-to-be ex-husband's eyes. It wasn't a look that she saw often, but when she saw it, she knew that Derek was in the mood for some serious drinking. "We have an early morning tomorrow," she reminded him.
Derek shrugged passively. Addison was right; they had to be up early tomorrow to meet with their divorce lawyers. But he didn't want to think about that right now. He didn't want to think about how tomorrow, with a few flourishes of a pen, eleven-plus years would come to an end.
Admittedly, their marriage had ended a long time ago. But tomorrow would make things official. Tomorrow would make things legal. Tomorrow would make things real. And for some reason, making things real unnerved him. He found that it was much easier to accept the end of his and Addison's marriage in the abstract. And maybe that's why he hadn't been able to sign the divorce papers when Addison had given them to him the first time. Because as much as he knew that they couldn't stay married, the thought of them signing those papers tomorrow caused a dull, raw pain in the pit of his stomach. A pain that he was currently trying to numb with a few glasses of scotch (and whatever else Addison was willing to offer).
Are you willing to be had? Are you cool with just tonight?
"So, where's Meredith tonight?" Addison asked, bringing herself to go there, as she and Derek nursed their glasses of scotch.
Derek shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "We're taking some time. At least, I am." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know…I think she still might be dating Finn."
"Oh."
"Yeah. How about you?" he asked, equally boldly. "Are you seeing anyone?"
"No," Addison said, shaking her head. "Completely unattached."
"I mean, technically, you're married," Derek pointed out.
Addison nodded in concession. "And technically you are too."
Though that had never really mattered much to either of them before.
"It is interesting, though…" Addison trailed off coyly. She hated herself the second the words left her mouth. She hated herself for being so weak. She hated herself for still wanting Derek, even after all the hurt and pain they'd caused each other.
"You know what, never mind," she recovered, doing her best to salvage whatever dignity she had left, desperately hoping that Derek hadn't picked up on the pathetic, suggestive undertones of her previous statement.
But Derek just gave her a coy smile. "It is interesting," he agreed. Sure, he was being just as evasive as she was, but she got his message. Just like he had gotten hers.
"More scotch?" Addison asked quickly.
Derek chuckled. "Sure."
Addison laughed in spite of herself as she poured more amber liquid into their glasses. Technically, she and Derek both still had alcohol in their tumblers. But the tension was thick. And she needed to think clearly. Or maybe less clearly. And, apparently, more scotch was the way to do this.
xxxxx
"You can take the brownstone," Addison told her soon-to-be ex-husband glumly, as she sipped at her scotch. "I know you hate the Hamptons…so, tomorrow, you can take the brownstone."
"But you love the brownstone," Derek pointed out.
Addison shrugged. "I cheated first," she said sadly. "You should take the brownstone."
"Why do you always do this?" Derek asked.
"Do what?"
"Make things serious. Pick apart every last detail of everything. There's going to be enough of that tomorrow. Can't we just go back to the pleasant conversation we were having?"
Addison looked at her soon-to-be ex-husband in confusion. "Um, okay. Where do you want to pick up from?"
"I don't know," Derek said, offering her a suggestive smile. "How about we pick up at the part where we were talking about having sex?"
"What?" Addison gasped in surprise. "We were not talking about that."
"Come on, we were."
"Okay, we were," Addison conceded. "But, Derek, you know we can't."
"Why not? I mean, technically, we're still married."
"Yeah, but we're getting divorced tomorrow," Addison pointed out.
"So, we won't sleep together tomorrow," Derek reasoned. "I'm okay with just tonight. Are you?"
"I, uh…" Addison trailed off.
"Addie," Derek said softly, his bright blue eyes connecting with her pale blue-green ones.
"I, um," she stammered. She knew she should turn him down. But he was looking at her in a way that he hadn't looked at her for a while. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't looking at her with that look of hurt, distain, and betrayal that she'd grown accustomed to. And he wasn't looking at her the way he looked at Meredith. The way he was looking at her was different. And yet so completely familiar. He was looking at her the way he used to look at her. Before Meredith. Before Mark. Back when they were Addison-and-Derek.
She knew when they signed those divorce papers in the morning that he'd never look at her that way again. Once those papers were signed, she'd never again taste his lips when he kissed her deeply. She'd never again feel his body pressed up against hers. And sex would obviously be off the table.
But it wasn't tonight. All of these things were possibilities tonight. It was wrong, sure. And desperate and self-loathing. But she'd sunk lower. And her moral compass had always pointed a little left of due north anyway.
"Okay," she breathed. "I'm okay with just tonight."
The words had barely left her mouth when Derek crashed his lips against hers. And she responded in kind, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He pushed her onto the bed – a little rougher than he'd intended to – and she wasted no time unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it off his arms, as they continued to kiss heatedly.
She pulled back from Derek for a moment, and he groaned unhappily. She smirked at him as she held up his discarded flannel shirt and eyed it critically. Very wood-chopping fisherman. She shook her head in disapproval.
"Shut up," Derek muttered, his eyes shining with mirth as his lips reconnected with hers. He easily unzipped her Chanel pencil skirt, and she made equally quick work of removing his pants and boxers.
He kissed her deeply, and she gasped as he entered her. They only had tonight, and they were going to make it count.
xxxxx
"Derek?" Addison whispered into the darkness. "Are you awake?"
"Yeah," Derek answered. He sat up on the couch he'd been laying on and squinted in the darkness, trying to make out Addison's form on the nearby bed.
"How did you remember that I was wearing that dress the day that I got that article accepted?"
"Because I took it off you when we snuck off to have sex in the women's bathroom of that bar we went to with everyone to celebrate."
"The Refinery," Addison nodded, smiling at the memory.
"And I remember you insisting upon me draping your dress over the door of the bathroom stall, instead of just throwing it on the floor," Derek continued with a chuckle.
Addison laughed heartily at that. "I didn't want it to accidentally fall in the toilet," she defended. "And you and I both know that if I'd gone back out there wearing a wrinkled dress, someone would have said something."
"And bathroom floors are gross," Derek added teasingly. "And that dress was expensive," he mocked.
"It was," Addison agreed solemnly, doing her best not to crack a smile at Derek's comments. She swallowed thickly, suddenly growing serious. "It was a really great night," she whispered. "Do you remember?"
"Yeah," Derek nodded. "Of course I do."
Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well
"I'd like to propose a toast," Derek grinned, raising his glass of scotch. "To my amazingly successful wife," he smiled, meeting Addison's eyes. "Congratulations, Honey. Well deserved."
"Yeah, congrats, Red," Mark echoed, giving Addison a proud smile.
"Way to make the rest of us look bad," Sam quipped, as Naomi elbowed him in the side playfully.
Addison smiled widely as her friends continued to offer their congratulations. She made her way over to where her husband was standing, and Derek immediately wrapped an arm around her.
"So," Derek began, smiling at his wife adoringly. "How does it feel to have an article accepted in a top 3 medical journal?"
"Pretty good," Addison admitted with a smile. "Really good, actually."
Derek gave his wife a wide smile. "It's a huge turn-on too," he confessed, lowering his voice seductively.
"Really?" Addison asked, raising an eyebrow coyly.
"Yeah," Derek grinned. "My wife's talented and accomplished. And let's not forget the obvious," he added, eyeing her body appreciatively. "You have a-"
"Sparkling personality," Addison filled in with a smirk.
"Obviously," Derek laughed, pulling his wife in close and kissing her deeply.
"You know," Derek began when they broke apart from each other, "not that anyone's asking me or anything, but…being married to someone who has an article in a top 3 medical journal…that feels pretty good too."
Here's to the nights we felt alive
"Okay, you two should really just go ahead and get a room already," Savvy commented as she walked by Addison and Derek, who were too wrapped up in each other to notice any of the other occupants at the bar.
"Actually, I'd recommend the coat closet," Savvy continued. "It's secluded, pretty roomy, and not very well monitored, so you'll have some privacy."
"Savvy," Addison chuckled, tingeing red. "I think we're a little old for that."
"You're not too old for that," Savvy disagreed. "You're both young, attractive, successful people. And you," she went on, looking at Addison, "just had an article accepted in an important medical journal. And I happen to have it on good authority that the coatroom here works pretty well if you feel like slipping away for a minute or two…or however long it takes."
"And by good authority, you mean you and Weiss have had sex in the coatroom here?" Derek teased.
"Hey, a lady never kisses and tells," Savvy shot back with a playful wink. "Anyway, I'll see you two later," she said, walking away to find Weiss.
Addison shook her head in amusement before turning her attention back to her husband. "Wh-why are you looking at me like that?" she asked Derek, noticing the mischievous glint in his eyes.
"I don't know," Derek shrugged. "I guess a part of me would be lying if I said I wasn't tempted by Savvy's suggestion."
"Really?" Addison laughed, before growing serious. "I guess a part of me would be lying if I said I wasn't tempted too," she admitted.
"Coat closet?" Derek asked quickly, his eyes darkening in desire.
"No," Addison said, shaking her head. "Savvy and Weiss have already christened the coatroom. Bathroom?" she offered.
"Okay."
"Women's or men's?"
"You choose," Derek said, kissing his wife's temple sweetly. "Tonight's your night, remember?"
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
"Addison?" Derek said gently, ripped from his thoughts by the sound of his soon-to-be ex-wife's sniffling. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," Addison lied, doing her best to regain composure.
"You don't sound fine," Derek disagreed, instinctively rising from the couch that he was supposed to be sleeping on, and joining Addison on the bed. He slid under the covers and snuggled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Maybe it was crossing a line, but considering they'd just slept together, he kind of doubted it.
"Derek, what are you doing?" Addison whispered in surprise.
Derek gently caressed Addison's cheek with the pads of his fingers, registering the moisture on her soft skin. "I knew you weren't fine," he whispered back, purposely evading her question.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Then we won't talk about it," Derek resolved, pulling his soon-to-be ex-wife in closer. "We'll just sleep."
"Okay," Addison nodded.
Sure, she knew that not talking about it probably wasn't the best idea. All these years of not talking about it had proved fatal to her and Derek's marriage. But she figured the damage had already been done. There was no coming back. Tomorrow, they would be divorced; and there was nothing that either of them could say tonight that would change that.
But she could lay there with his arms around her, and for just a few hours, she could pretend that her life wasn't this gigantic mess. For just a few hours, she could pretend that they were Addison-and-Derek again. Because she wasn't going to say anything to the contrary. And neither was he. They weren't going to talk about it.
Tomorrow would arrive soon enough, and reality would set back in. But it wasn't tomorrow yet.
"Goodnight, Derek," Addison whispered, making herself comfortable in her soon-to-be ex-husband's arms. "Sleep well."
"Night, Addie," Derek smiled, gently running his hand through his soon-to-be ex-wife's long hair. "You too."
Here's to goodbye.
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon.