AN: Okay, so I didn't think anybody would read this, or that this story would pick up. I thought no one reads any more Addek fics nowadays because, well, the show is on its 8th season and I figured people would be losing interest in Addison and Derek. But Addison and Derek are strong, at least in the fandom. We are Addison-and-Derek-fans, and we don't quit. Haha. Okay. I'll stop ranting and explain this installment.

So, I said before that this story is basically going to jump time lines. I mean, it'll still be in chronological order, but there won't necessarily be a fixed amount of time between the stories. Did you get it? Okay. Just to make things clear because I'm not sure I got my message across. English isn't my first language so I kind of don't know if I'm making any sense. Haha.

And most importantly, the best part of ANs is this: saying thank you to the people who still read ANs and, of course, the story itself. Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed. It means a lot to me. This whole writing thing is taking away precious study time, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

OH. And this installment is extremely short compared to the first one. All the rest will be approximately this length. The first one will kind of stick out like a sore thumb. So yeah. I'm rambling

ON TO THE STORY!

-I own nothing.


Prompt: "Did you guys get to that part where Derek rhymes Gross Anatomy class with Addison's finances? I wrote that line." (Mark Sloan, 5x15)


Derek groaned frustratedly, scratching off a line on the piece of paper before him. He looked at the sheet, groaning as he realized the once white paper was now almost entirely gray, lines written horizontally and diagonally and all other ways in an attempt to accommodate all of his ideas.

He was writing a song. What possessed him to write a song, he wasn't entirely sure. All he knew was that he was head over heels in love with a certain redhead, and he wanted to do something special for her.

He had written the first verse- one that depicted how they had met. He got the whole concept written down, somewhere on a page at the back of his notebook. He wanted the song to show the progression of their relationship- from the day they met to the future he was hoping they'd have together. So since he'd already gotten the first verse down, he wasn't sure how else to continue. Finishing the song was a long shot. Finishing it before he got married three days from today was even more impossible. He had never written a song, never tried to compose a tune. But like he had previously acknowledged, he was in love.

Never mind that he didn't know how to sing, not even to save his life. Never mind that he can only play the guitar but still be left unable to carry a tune. And never mind that he was entirely clueless with everything related to creative writing. He wanted to do this- for her. It was unexpected coming from him, and he was looking forward to the delight he was sure he'd find in Addison's eyes once he'd sung it. Addison wasn't the most sentimental person he knew, but he knew she'd appreciate it. Because it was her song, and he wrote it for her.

Oh, and never mind that he was enlisting the help of the most emotionally constipated man he'd ever known- his best friend Mark Sloan.

Studying the first verse, he realized he had so many ideas, bits and pieces of lines that only needed to be coherent. Beside him, Mark was strumming on his guitar aimlessly. He didn't know how to play, that much was easy to figure out, but he was finding immense pleasure in seeing Derek groan irritably at his company.

He'd been sitting on his couch for almost half a day, strumming away as if he knew how to play. Halfway between Derek's first sigh of hopelessness and his latest groan of frustration, Mark realized that playing with Derek's guitar was putting the man on edge more than he'd care to admit. And he liked it.

"You're not helping, Mark" Derek muttered, his head aching slightly. "I can't concentrate with your damn strumming."

Mark stilled his fingers and chuckled. "Hey, you're the one who wants to write a song."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, and you said you were going to help me." Not drive me to insanity, he thought.

"I didn't say I was gonna help you actually write it, seeing as I don't understand why you're doing this in the first place."

Derek huffed. "Well, the least you could do is be supportive."

Mark smiled. "I'm being supportive. This is the only way I know how. I'm drinking your beer, I'm playing with your guitar, I'm keeping you company. I'm being supportive," he reiterated, taking a swig of his beer to emphasize his point.

Derek sighed. "Maybe this is a bad idea. I'm not even sure she's gonna like it." It wasn't that he was growing desperate or anything. Well. Who was he kidding? He was growing desperate.

Mark set the guitar aside and looked at Derek. "Look, Addison is gonna like it. You guys are stupidly in love, she'll overlook that it's badly written and terribly cheesy."

Derek smiled good-naturedly, thinking of Addison who was probably getting some last minute wedding preparations done. "I'd like to think she's in love me, or else she won't marry me."

Mark rolled his eyes is slight disgust. "Look, I'm well aware of that. You don't have to make a spectacle of yourself. Just write whatever comes into your head, finish the damn song, and sing it at the reception. It's that easy."

"Not helping, Mark," Derek reminded, standing up to grab a bottle of beer from the fridge. He'd already had two, and he probably needed more if he wanted to finish it.

"You were the one who decided to write this song three days before the wedding. Maybe if you told me, what, a year ago when you first got engaged, I would've found enough time to come up with stellar ideas," he said jovially.

From behind the kitchen counter, Derek flashed him a look. "Yeah, well. There's no use complaining now. So just help me finish it."

Mark shook his head. "Whatever man. I don't know what possessed you, but you're not Elton John to magically come up with a love song in three days." He paused, then slapped the guitar on top lightly. "Hey, that's an idea! Why don't you just sing that Elton John song. What's that song?" He asked, furrowing his brow trying to think of the song's title.

"Your Song?" Derek asked, grabbing the bottle opener from the drawer. "Mark, I can't even sing—"

"Then why are we even doing this?" he asked, cutting Derek off and throwing his hands up in the air.

"Because. Okay? Just because," he said adamantly. "But like I was saying, I can't even sing a damn song, I'll probably ruin Elton John for her. Besides, it won't be her song."

"She doesn't have to know you didn't write it."

"Addison isn't stupid," Derek said, taking a swig of his beer before he threw the bottle opener into the sink. "And she's a closeted Elton John fan."

Mark scowled and reached over to grab the paper from the coffee table to scan it.

"You know, most people just write their own vows, not a whole damn song," he muttered, scanning the piece of paper. His expression turned from petulant to amused.

Derek didn't answer, only leaned on the doorframe as he watched Mark's eyes scan the piece of paper with that devilish grin of his. He had some really crappy ideas, and he was sure he was never gonna hear the end of it if Mark read it. But he needed his ideas, too. He'd deal with the teasing later on. What mattered right now was making the song exist.

Mark fought to keep a straight face, but that resolve quickly broke in a matter of two seconds. The song was ridiculous. It was incredibly ridiculous that Mark couldn't classify it as a love song. Who mentions heart valves and dead people in a love song?

He broke out laughing, earning a glare from Derek as he made his way back to the couch.

"Thanks a lot, Mark," Derek said sarcastically, trying the snatch the paper away from Mark.

But Mark held on to it tightly, still laughing, taking quick glances at the paper before bursting out yet again.

"Mark," Derek whined. "You're not helping. Focus."

Mark kept on laughing, receiving more glares from Derek. He couldn't help it. Anything art-related wasn't considered Derek's strongest suited. The only things that saved the man from being completely art-inept were his guitar, The Clash, and his cooking. The man had some pretty good cooking skills. But that was entirely beside the point.

After a while, Mark had calmed down enough to take a look at the song again. He bit his bottom lip to keep a straight face.

"Our eyes met over the cadaver, I knew I had to have her," Mark recited dramatically, raising one of his hands up in a Shakespearean gesture. "Poetic, Derek. Poetic."

Derek sighed. "Alright fine, laugh. Get it out of your system. Just help me finish it." Mark was being Mark. It's always been that way since they were kids. Between the two of them, Derek was more sentimental and Mark was, well… he got the right term once before: emotionally constipated.

Mark smirked, fighting another burst of laughter, and then turned back to the paper. "You want a second verse?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

He nodded, picking the pencil up from the coffee table and handing it to Mark. "Suggestions?"

Raising a brow, Mark studied the song and tried to figure out where he wanted to go with it. He could see Derek's ideas scribbled all around the paper, and he tried to put two and two together to get coherent thought. "So you're saying you met in Anatomy?"

Derek nodded again. "Gross Anatomy. You know that." He smiled to himself, remembering the day he had the pleasure of being introduced to the redhead.

It was Mark's turn to nod, pushing down the sarcastic retort he had bubbling in his throat in an attempt to be supportive. He was really bad at this.

"Had his mitral valve grown too thick? Is that what our cadaver so sick?" The song needed a lot of work. He couldn't even begin to describe it. It was more than ridiculous. Maybe the right word was horrendous. If he sang this in the middle of nowhere, even the cows of some uncharted land would get upset and die.

Derek smiled, noticing the way Mark scrunched his nose up in the way he did when he wasn't trying to be mean.

"Yeah, so that's the first verse. I need a second one." Derek paused, trying to remember what he wrote in his outline. "I want the second verse to say something about our whole relationship."

At this, Mark had to snort. "You mean how you're so poor that you go on dates, and Addison ends up paying for half of the tab?"

He shot him a glare. "Hey, that was one time! And I resentthat."

Mark snorted again, but didn't say anything. He was wracking his brain for something, something that could fit into the horribly written song. It was cheesy and so… unmanly, but he'd never say that to Derek. He was trying to be the supportive best friend.

"Okay, how about this?" Mark looked to Derek and saw that he was listening attentively. "We made out in Gross Anatomy Class/ and argued over her ridiculous finances?" all the while fighting the sly grin that was creeping on his face.

He knew Derek and Addison made out in the back of the laboratory, which was really sort of creepy because there were cadavers all over the place. He also knew it was risky to put it in a song Derek was to perform in front all their friends and family. But it would be a great addition to an already godforsaken song.

Derek heard it, pondered it, and was about to throw a pillow into Mark's face before the line grew on him. It wasn't Shakespeare, but then again, even the ones Derek wrote himself weren't Shakespeare.

It would have to do.

With a nod, he met Mark's mischievous eyes and nodded. "Write it."


OKAY. So that's the second one. There are 3 left, but I'm debating whether or not I should put in a 6th because I got another idea. But that would false advertising, right? LOL. Anyway, thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think? THANK YOU! :)