A/N: Okay, so I know I haven't updated Family Life and I'm kind of on hold with that. I haven't decided if I want to continue it or if I like it the way it is. But we all know how it goes with muses, so I had to post this...

Understand that in my Addek world, the Mer/Der relationship was put out of its misery but Derek and Addison never got back together or divorced, and so they are now in this awkward married-but-not-really stage. Comprende? (No offense to MerDer shippers, I was one for awhile and I might go back to it, but right now I'm in an Addek phase).

"Shepherd."

Derek was met with silence on the other end. The only thing he heard was a slight sniffling, but it was a sniffle that he recognized.

"Addison?" he asked, glancing at the clock. It was almost nine in the evening, and as he waited for her to reply he realized that he missed her voice.

"Hi."

"Hi," he said tenderly, understanding immediately that Addison was not herself. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me." He heard her sigh heavily and he couldn't help but smile at the familiar sound. "Look, I know we've been kind of...well, awkward lately. But we're friends, right?" He took her silence as agreement and continued. "Well friends tell each other their problems. So tell me yours," he prodded.

"I just...friends?"

"Yeah, friends," Derek confirmed. "You sound kind of sniffly. Have you been crying?"

"No," she said honestly, and Derek immediately knew why she had called him. Without giving her any indication of what he was doing, he pulled on his coat and grabbed his car keys. She was silent for a few minutes, but just as he was starting to get worried, climbing into the front seat of his car, she spoke.

"Derek?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what Add?" he asked, coughing to mask the sound of his car starting.

"That you and Meredith didn't work out."

Rather than a twinge of pain at the mention of his ex-girlfriend, Derek felt only appreciation at his wife's concern. "Thank you. But I'm not. It clearly wasn't meant to be."

"Like us?" she asked quietly, and he could picture her biting her lower lip.

"I don't know about that. We're still married, aren't we?"

"Yeah, yeah we are," she almost whispered, though he had expected her to laugh.

He pulled his car into the parking lot of his destination. "Listen, Addie, can I call you back in ten minutes?"

"You don't have to."

"I know. But I'm going to."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye, Add. Ten minutes," he promised, hanging up. He had almost instinctively added an extra three words to the end of his sentence, but caught himself at the last minute.

"Dr. Shepherd, it's good to see you," Annie said, smiling broadly when he stepped into his favorite little deli.

"Same to you," Derek said, smiling at the teenager who worked behind the counter.

"What can I get for you?"

"Do you have any of that wonderful stuff you gave me last month?"

"For you, Dr. Shepherd, of course. Do you need it again?" she asked sympathetically.

"No," Derek answered, with a little smile. "It's for my wife."

Annie handed him a paper bag and smiled. "She's a lucky woman, Doctor."

"No, I'm a lucky man," he corrected, exchanging the bag for a twenty, which more than covered the cost. She went to give him change but he waved her off. "Keep it," he called, walking out the door with a wave.

He got back in the car and drove, dialing Addison's number as he worked his way through the dark Seattle streets.

"Hello?" she answered, sounding small and tired.

"Hey you."

"You called back." She sounded surprised.

"I told you I would."

"Yeah, you did."

He pulled up in front of her small house and hopped out of the car with the brown bag in tow. "Open the door."

"What?"

"Open your front door."

He saw her feet first, padding down the stairs with no socks on. He was always giving her a hard time for running around in her bare feet when they lived in New York. Then came her legs, clad in pink and white striped pajama pants. On top of that she was wearing a pink long-sleeved t-shirt. Leave it to Addison to always match, even in her pajamas. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, the red strands in their natural wavy state.

She swung the door open and cocked her head to the side in surprise, setting the phone down on the hall table. "What are you doing here?" she asked, as he put his phone in his pocket.

"I know you too well," he answered. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," she said quietly, opening the door a little wider. She stifled a sneeze in the crook of her elbow as he stepped in the house.

"Bless you. You know," he said, following her into the kitchen, "you could have just told me."

"Told you what?" she asked.

He set the brown bag on the counter and took off his jacket. Hanging it over a chair, he flashed her his most charming smile. "That you're sick and wanted me to come take care of you."

"Derek--" she started, but he interrupted.

"Don't," he said, holding up a hand. "I know, I know. You can take care of yourself; you're a strong, independent woman."

"Don't mock me," she said, sounding mildly offended.

His smile softened. "I wasn't mocking you, Add. I'm serious," he said, guiding her to the two stools by the island. She sat down, looking at him in confusion. He leaned against the countertop next to her and took one of her hands in his. "You are a strong, independent woman. I know that. But I also know that you hate being sick."

Addison smiled slightly at this. Derek had always been extremely patient with her in their earlier years of marriage. He let go of her hand and stood up.

"Where are your spoons?"

She pointed to a drawer next to the refrigerator and he pulled one out. He sat down on the stool next to her and pulled a container out of the brown bag. He took off the lid and held the steaming container up to Addison's nose and she inhaled it appreciatively.

"It's the best stuff I've ever had," he told her. He set it down in front of her on the table and stuck the spoon in it. She looked at him tentatively and then picked up the spoon. "You'll like it, I promise. It's just like the soup I used to get you in New York."

The significance of his comment did not go unnoticed by Addison as she took a spoonful up to her lips and slurped a few noodles into her mouth. "Mmm, that is good," she murmured.

"I told you."

"Thanks, Derek. I really appreciate you doing this for me."

He smiled at her, reaching over and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She blushed and returned to her soup. She ate a few more spoonfuls and then looked up at him.

"Derek?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I thought we had established that already. Remember the friends speech?"

"I know, but Derek...Miranda and Callie, they're my friends. You don't see them over here at nine o'clock at night bringing me soup when I didn't even tell them that I'm sick. I-I don't know why I called you and I don't know why you came. What are we doing here, Derek?"

"I don't know, Addie. But I do know a few things. I know that I am still your husband, and you aren't feeling well and it is my job to take care of you. Does anything else really matter right now?"

"No, I guess not," she said after a few moments.

She sneezed again and he smiled at her sympathetically, pressing his palm to her forehead. "You have a fever. Did you know that?"

She shrugged. "I figured, but I didn't bother checking." She shivered. "Why don't we take this to the living room?" she said, indicating the soup. "There are blankets in there."

Derek nodded and followed her into the living room. She sat down on the couch with her back against the armrest and her hands wrapped around the soup. Derek sat down at the other end, not sure how close she wanted him. Addison answered that question by stretching out her legs and placing her feet in his lap, grinning cheekily.

"God, Add, your feet are freezing. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Not really," she replied, as he draped a blanket from the back of the couch over her. He rubbed his hands over her feet, trying to warm them up.

"I'm glad you called me, Addie," Derek said softly, after a few minutes where the only sound was Addison slurping her soup. She looked up, somewhat surprised. "It's just...I know how being sick gets you worked up and I wouldn't want you to be alone."

"Thanks, Derek. I'm glad I'm not alone."

She set the now empty soup container on the counter and grabbed a pillow. She chucked it onto Derek's lap and then wriggled around on the couch so that she could lay her head on it. He hesitated at first; not knowing what to do with his hands, but muscle memory quickly took over. His left hand rested on her back as his right found her hair. He gently tugged the rubber band out and it couldn't have felt more natural as she held her wrist up in the air for him. He slid the hair tie over her hand and onto her wrist and then tangled his fingers in her hair rubbing her head as he had done so many times in the past.

"Mmm, that feels nice," she murmured, the hand with the rubber band now coming to rest on his knee cap. "Why is this so comfortable?"

"We've been doing this for almost fourteen years, babe. Why shouldn't it be comfortable?"

"You just called me babe," she pointed out.

"It felt right," he replied. "Just go with it, Add. Let me take care of you tonight. We'll just pretend it's that time you caught the flu in our last year of med school. Remember?"

"Of course I remember," she retorted. "I was miserable for a solid week."

Derek laughed at the memory. "Well, remember what I good boyfriend I was?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "I do remember. You took such good care of me."

"Well, pretend we're still in med school. Just for tonight, okay? We can talk about whatever this is in the morning."

"OK. Since you're taking care of me then..."

"What do you need?" he asked, lifting her off of his lap and standing up, easing her gently back down on the couch.

"Tylenol? In the cabinet in the bathroom."

He crouched in front of her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Does your head hurt?" he asked knowingly. She nodded. "Kay, I'll be right back."

Addison had almost fallen asleep when Derek returned, a glass of water and two pills in his hand. She sat up and took the pills gratefully, knocking them back easily. Derek resumed his place on the couch and Addison sat back against him.

"You're sweet."

"I try," Derek said. "Want to watch some TV?"

"Sure," she said, passing him the remote from the coffee table. He flicked through a few channels, passing by a basketball game that Addison was sure he wanted to watch. "You can watch the game, Derek. I'm not long for this world anyway."

He looked down, as if to see if she was messing with him, and when she smiled up at him he turned back to the game. "You can go to sleep if you're tired," he said, his hand rubbing small circles on her back. "I'll make sure you get up to bed."

She nodded and let herself succumb to sleep, grateful to have someone looking after her after the lousy day she'd had. By the end of the third quarter, Derek found himself with his wife sound asleep in his lap and almost laughed to himself at the absurdity of the situation. He turned the TV off and stood up, cradling Addison in his arms. He carried her up the stairs and pulled back the comforter on her neatly made bed.

"Derek?" she murmured, stirring as he laid her down.

"Yeah sweetie?"

"Will you...will you lay with me? I miss you."

He only hesitated for a second before kicking off his shoes and crawling into bed with her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and she curled up against him, sighing heavily.

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Addie. Now go back to sleep. You need your rest."

When Derek woke up at six the next morning, before even opening his eyes, he surmised that he was lying on his back and that there was a pressure on his chest. Disoriented and expecting it to be the dog, Derek's eyes flew open and he saw a mess of red hair splayed across his chest. For a split second, as he looked around, he expected to see the bedroom in the brownstone. Then he remembered where he was. Holding his breath, he carefully extracted himself from Addison's limbs, slowly climbing out of bed. He breathed a sigh of relief when he made it out of the room without waking her.

He walked down the stairs slowly and began rooting around in Addison's kitchen for the coffee. He found it quickly, as it was organized in a very familiar way. Once the coffee started brewing, he rooted around some more. Though it had occurred to him that this might have been an invasion of his wife's privacy, he reminded himself that he was in fact her husband. He took a mug of coffee and the thermometer that he had known she'd have back upstairs with him. He set the coffee down on her nightstand and then perched on the bed.

"Addison," he whispered, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. Her eyelids fluttered open and he watched as the same confusion passed over her features. "How do you feel?" he asked, once he could see that she knew where she was.

She wrinkled her nose, as if taking inventory of her body, and then frowned. "Crummy."

Derek cringed. "I'm sorry. Are you working today?"

"Yeah," she answered.

He smiled and grabbed the thermometer. "Open up."

"Derek, this really isn't necessary," she said, as he tucked the thermometer under her tongue.

"Humor me," he said, smiling. "I'm going to go get my phone. Sit tight."

She could hear him already talking to someone as he walked back up the stairs. "This is Dr. Shepherd; could I speak to Dr. Webber please?"

"Derek!" she hissed, sounding a bit comical through the thermometer in her mouth. He smiled and put a finger to her lips.

"Hi Richard, it's Derek," he said, taking the thermometer from her mouth. "Yes, I know I'm not on today. I'm calling because Addison," he paused, holding the thermometer up to the light, "has a hundred and one degree fever."

Derek chuckled slightly at Richard's response, setting the thermometer down on the nightstand. "Yes, Richard, I am at her house...what, a man is not allowed to call in sick for his wife?"

Addison groaned, rolling away from him.

"I know that we are a special case, as you put it," Derek was saying. "But the fact remains that my wife is sick and won't be in today...yes, I promise we will let you know if the status of our relationship changes...I will. Okay. Have a nice day."

She rolled back to face him as he closed his phone. He smiled cheekily at her.

"What did he say?"

"To take good care of you."

Addison couldn't help but chuckle as Derek reached for his coffee. She sat up and held out her hand.

"Caffeine is the last thing you need right now," he chided, handing her the mug anyway.

"I don't care," she said, taking a long swallow. "Mmm, I had forgotten how much better coffee tastes when someone else makes it."

"Do you know what I had forgotten?" he asked, softly.

"What?"

"How nice it is to wake up with you in my arms."

"Derek..." she started, and he knew what was coming. "What are we doing?"

"I...I don't know. Look, we've both hurt each other. A lot. But I think we're starting to move past that and it feels right. I miss you, Addison."

"I miss you too," she said softly. "But I'm scared."

He was surprised to see her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Of what?" he asked gently.

"I'm afraid we'll fall apart again. That we'll fall into the same routine and hurt each other all over again."

"Did you hear what you just said?" he asked, looking straight into her eyes. "You said fall, twice. All we have to do is actively work against it and we won't fall. We're aware of it now. Yes, we're going to hurt each other again. You're going to get mad at me and I'm going to get mad at you and we'll fight. But it doesn't have to end like it did the first time."

She was crying by the time he finished and all he wanted to do was hold her. But he knew he needed to give her space, until she closed the gap between them.

"We'll take it slow?" she asked, and it was clearly a question, not a demand.

"Yes. As slow as you want."

"Not too slow," she laughed in spite of herself, "we are married, after all."

He laughed, a loud belly laugh, releasing all of the tension that he had unknowingly been under for the past twelve hours. She held out her arms to him and he obliged, pulling her into his lap.

"I love you, Addison."

"I love you too, Derek. God, that feels good to say."

A/N 2: I know, I know, another sick fic. I can't help it, they're my favorite. I'm sure a psychiatrist would have something to say about that, but that's beside the point. Let me know what you think. If people are interested/ have a request for where this could go, I'd consider adding another chapter. We'll see.