Disclaimer: I will not claim that I own Grey's Anatomy. Because if I did, Meredith probably would have drowned (I'm kidding, people), Denny never would have died, Finn would never have been dumped, and Prom never, ever, ever would have happened. Oh, and the show would probably be called Addison's Anatomy.
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Author's Note: This oneshot (for now, anyway) was sparked by the what-if scenario that we all face. Especially after seeing the cute Addek scenes in the bonus features of the Season Two DVD. I always thought Patrick and Kate had so much more chemistry with each other than anyone else they have been paired with on the show. And I was deeply saddened to see their marriage end, so I'm giving this little present to you. A what-if.
Do enjoy, and do review!
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There was a soft Christmas carol playing from inside of the bar. Derek caught only the strains of it as the door opened and closed, happy people stepping into the bitter cold of the night. The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses met his ears and despite himself, he found that he was smiling. He could see Addison from the window, though she hadn't seen him yet. She was bent over a catalog, her lips pursed in thought, her red hair falling over her face. Her hand was poised over a picture, her eyebrows raised, before she finally marked it. Probably with a star, Derek found himself guessing, her symbol for a strong possibility. The door opened again, a bell tinkled, and he found the courage to move closer.
Swallowing and trying to summon his courage, he opened the door for himself and stepped into the bar. He relaxed a little as the warmth and comfort of Joe's flowed through his chilled body. He looked once more towards Addison, his lips bowing into that half smile that only she could bring to his face. That smile that was part exasperation and part amusement, a smile reserved only for Addison. He knew her well and he knew that right now, she'd just found the perfect present, probably for his mother. She'd been nervous about it all day, hovering about him anxiously, so unlike her normal, poised self. She'd always been amazing at picking out the presents for his family, she somehow knew what his mother liked, what Nancy, Kathleen, Laura and Gigi all liked - that was no easy task. For starters, Derek's four sisters were as different as night and day, their only similarity being the same piercing blue eyes and impossibly dark brown hair he himself had inherited. Addison had been particularly stressed about what to get his mother. Carolyn Shepherd had never really warmed to Addison, even after several years of her being married to Derek. Now, his mother thought that she'd been proved right, that Addison had been an adulterous snob all along. She'd done nothing but talk her down to Derek since she'd found out.
Derek shook his head, hoping to dispel all unpleasant thoughts and made his way to the bar, smiling at Joe.
"Hey," Joe smiled, putting a glass on the bar.
Derek found his spirits lifting already. Joe could have been a real ass to him after the way he'd played Meredith. He winced at the memory of the whole debacle. He'd been furious at Addie, looking for any escape. But what he'd done, he was just now realizing, was bad, maybe even worse. Adultery was a filthy word, and he'd thrown it at Addison myriad times. She could have thrown it back, he was coming to realize, but she never had. She had winced, maybe even yelled, but she'd never called him on his hypocrisy. She wouldn't be Addie if she did. She didn't fight dirty, she was fair.
"Merry Christmas, Joe," Derek responded, taking off his gloves and pushing them into his pockets. He opened his mouth to order his drink, but there was no need.
The familiar sound of liquor meeting a glass was both soothing and promising, easing his nerves. What he was going to say, well, it would take courage and alcohol was definitely called for.
"Double scotch," Joe stated, "single malt." He capped the bottle and slid the glass to Derek, waving his hand dismissively at Derek's wallet.
"You're a good man," Derek responded gratefully, holding his glass. Joe was a good man, he'd never left his wife, had an affair, he was a good guy.
"Hey, Dr. Shepherd," a feminine voice interrupted. Derek didn't know whether to wince or to smile. He felt so many things for Addison; it was confusing as hell to respond to her attempts at fixing their marriage. In the beginning, he had felt duty bound, his ring was like an anchor, pulling him underwater, sinking him deep below the surface. But now…the surface was coming into view, he could almost breathe again.
Derek shared a look with Joe, who looked both amused and sympathetic, and turned to face his wife, raising his glass.
"Dr. Shepherd." He mused inwardly about all the times they had played this game, calling each other nicknames, teasing, laughing. There had been so many good times, years of good memories. When had it gone wrong? Why had it gone wrong?
Addison shuffled her catalogs into a precise pile and carefully tucked them away, with a surgeon's eye for order. He took a gulp of scotch, feeling it burn all the way down. He made his way to the table she'd chosen, a small table, just for two.
"So," she smiled, "how's Mr. Epstein's frontal lobe?"
He was momentarily stalled in his thoughts. She'd always shown a keen interest in his cases, always had a suggestion, a comforting word or a way of helping him grieve. He couldn't remember the last time he'd asked after one of hers. Derek set his drink on the table, pulling out his chair.
"He woke up smiling," he responded, a smile on his own face.
"Congratulations," she smiled wider, raising her glass to him, looking down to stir at her drink.
"Thank you," he said, really meaning it. When his patient had woken up, screaming at his kids, Derek had been horrified. When Stevens had suggested that his bitterness had caused it, he'd been even more so. He'd had to let go of all of his feelings to heal, and the significance of that had shocked him. He'd played a CD of Christmas carols, a CD that he and Addison had made for their first Christmas as a married couple. He could still remember chasing her around the house, making a lasso of tinsel, kissing her under the misteltoe until she'd left him breathless. Those happy memories had guided his hand and led to a family regaining their loving husband and father.
"What are you drinking?" He asked her, a playful tone creeping into his voice on its own. He leant over and looked into her cup as she laughed.
She spooned some of whatever it was into her mouth, lauging again, daintily wiping her mouth.
"It's, uh, hot buttered rum," she told him, her eyes dancing, "it's delicious."
"It's Dickensian," he bantered, knowing how much she loved Dickens, especially around the holidays. Christmas was Addie's holiday, and when he'd met her, it had become his too. He'd never liked Christmas after his dad had died. Christopher Shepherd had been the glue of his family, a jolly man who had loved Christmas with his whole heart and soul. When Addie had come into his life, their first Christmas together had been when he realized how much he loved her. She had been the one who had turned it back into the magical and wonderful holiday it had been before. With her smile, her infectious laughter, her inability to gift wrap anything that wasn't a perfect square and her knack for getting tangled in the strings of lights and somehow dragging him into all of it, she'd given the magic of Christmas back to him, to him and his whole family.
"No," she protested, before giving in, "well, yeah, but it's Christmas. Christmas, Derek, we love Christmas." Her eyes implored him, wanting him to tell her he still did love Christmas, but when he said nothing, she looked away. "At least, we used to…"
"Yeah," he sighed, looking down for a moment, staring at his wedding band as if it would give him all the answers. He gathered his courage and looked back up at her. "Christmas makes you want to be with people you love," he told her, his face composed.
She looked at him, hope dying in her eyes, her lips trembling before she pressed them together.
"Addie," he entreated, placing his hands on the table, "look at me, please."
She shook her head resolutely, one tear marking its way down her face.
"It's why I'm with you."
She sat up straight, her head whipping up to face him. Her eyes went wide, though they did not stop watering.
"Derek," she whispered, "do you mean that? Because, I really need you to mean that. You can't say stuff like that and take it back..."
"Addie," he tried again, "I love you. And I'm not saying it's all going to be perfect, we're going to fight, and I get to be hurt and angry sometimes. But I'm not going to stop loving you and I'm not going to give up."
"Derek…" Addison was openly crying now, though there was a smile on her face, however small. "I don't know what to say, I mean, I come here and I try to make it work, but all I'm doing is hurting, and I know I messed up, I do, but I love you and--"
"Addie," Derek interrupted, trying to soothe her, "one day at a time, okay? Right now, the only thing I can do is promise you that I will love you and I will keep fighting for us, for this. So, if you could be patient with me…if you could let me heal and let me fix us in my own way…"
"Whatever you need," she gripped his hand tightly, "I don't want to lose you again, Derek. Once was bad enough, but I couldn't do it again."
"You won't lose me," Derek promised her, looking into her eyes seriously. Her face was pink from crying, her hair was falling into her face and he tucked it behind her ears. Using his thumb, he wiped at the tears that were leaving a trail down her face. Leaning over, he cupped her face and kissed her gently. She smiled against his mouth, hiccupping with a choked down sob, and Derek slowly pulled back. "I can promise you, Addie. For better or for worse," he twisted the rings on her finger, "I'm yours."
From the bar, Joe looked on with a smile on his face. He had a good feeling about those two. The way that Derek smiled at his wife, the way she looked into his eyes so intently. Their mannerisms were so in tune with each other, years of marriage displaying themselves subtly, like the way he guided her out of the bar, one hand in the very small of her back, the way she tightened her arm around his waist and how her head fit directly in the crook of his shoulder and the way they both moved in for a kiss, directly in sync.
It looked like Meredith wouldn't be getting her McDreamy back anytime soon.
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Depending on the response to this, I might consider adding more oneshot what-ifs. Reviewer requests, of course!
Thanks so much!
