A/N: This is the second Addek story I'm posting today, but the only flip. (The previous story is a full one-shot rather than a single expanded scene as I'm doing in this project.) As always, all recognizable dialogue comes directly from the episode; all characters belong to Shonda and her impressive ability to get us to still love a pairing who fictionally divorced 10 years ago. Please keep reading, reviewing, and shipping - the Addek Revolution needs us!

In this chapter, we're flipping the episode in which Addison, suspecting that something is going on between Derek and Meredith, questions first Derek (who blows her off) and then Meredith (who very nicely tells her she's moving on from Derek by dating Finn). And then Addison puts together why Derek came home from the vet's in a blind rage the other night and the rest is history involving a blowout fight on the catwalk in front of pretty much the entire hospital. Vintage Grey's at its finest.

Title comes from Addison's line on the catwalk – "You walk away? That's all I get?" Let's flip it so that's not all she gets…

That's All I Get?
(2.25, "17 Seconds")

It seems to happen in seconds.

One minute she's unloading – deservedly, thank you very much – on a man who wants to use his daughter's corpse as an incubator, and the next she's stumbling down the hall propelled by a firm hand at her waist.

Derek releases her once they're far enough from the patient's room.

"Those people just lost their daughter," he scolds.

"I know. That was my point, Derek. They need to face that. She's not coming back."

He holds up a hand to stop her, standing so close for once that his fingers brush the lapels of her open lab coat. "A little sensitivity would be nice here, okay?"

Sensitivity. Coming from the … her eyes widen. Seriously?

"They love their daughter," he continues. "They don't want to let go. All right?"

"What they're doing is not about love, Derek! It's – it's..." and she realizes it right before she says it, "...well, it's like you."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah." Her heart pounds, anger rising in her voice; her mind is swimming with memories of chasing him through the hospital all day, trying – and failing – to talk to him. Not now, Addison. There's nothing to tell, Addison. This isn't the time, Addison.

"Like how you pretend to love me, but really you're using me to fill some need you have to be a good guy."

"Now is not the time to talk about this," he speaks over the end of her sentence, cutting her off. "We'll talk about this later."

And he turns away, calm as anything. Famous last fucking words. She stalks after him as he approaches the catwalk.

"You walk away? That's all I get?"

He turns back at her raised voice. "Just calm down, please."

"What? What, you're not – what are you doing, Derek," because he's reached for her arm but she pulls it out of his grasp easily. She's just getting started, and she's sick of not talking, she's sick of not now. There's no more not now, not anymore.

"Addison," he says sharply. He grabs her arm more forcefully this time and steers her back in the direction they came, away from the catwalk.

"Let go of me!"

He doesn't, he shoves her ahead of him into an empty exam room and closes the door, leaning against it and folding his arms. By the way his chest is rising and falling, he's none too thrilled with her at the moment, but it's nothing compared to how she feels.

"Derek, what are you doing?" Her gestures are as angry as she is.

"Just calm down," he repeats, infuriatingly.

"Derek!" Her heart is beating wildly, every instinct she has demanding that she get out of the room. That, or claw his eyes out. Or, frankly, both. How dare he drag her out of a patient's room after specifically soliciting her advice, making her look like an idiot, especially after that blowhard called her miss. Which Derek didn't bother to correct, either. But that pales in comparison to the fact that he just doesn't. Fucking. Care. Whatever she does, she can't get him to care.

And now he's regarding her coolly, no emotion in his face – of fucking course not – and the feeling of powerlessness makes her dizzy with rage. She forces it down. She can be sweet. If she's sweet he'll let her out. It's not like she's never manipulated him before. After eleven years of marriage, she's not exactly a novice.

"Derek," she begins softly. "I'm sorry about before, out there, okay? You're right, I was being … insensitive." She makes her lips do something resembling a smile. "I'm sorry, really. Can you please open the door, honey?"

"That's not going to work."

"Derek!" With a wordless cry of frustration she stomps across the small space that's become her prison.

"Just calm down, please."

"Seriously, Derek? How do you not know that's not calming? Stop telling me to calm down!"

"Then stop needing to be told." He frowns. "Come on, Addison. Count to ten, do some yoga, pretend you're at Barney's, I don't care. You're not going back out there like this."

"Like what?" She grabs at her head, furious.

"Like that," he says mildly. "I suggest you count to ten. That usually works for people."

"That's not an answer," she says.

"Well, that's not calming down," he counters.

"Derek." She hears her voice rising again. "What do you care whether I'm calm or not?"

"Counting to ten really helps, you know. There are studies-"

"I don't care!"

He regards her for a moment, while she sizes him up and wonders how hard it would be to pry him away from the door. He does outweigh her and there's no question he's stronger, but she's tall and she's wily. And she's more flexible than he is. And her shoes have strategically pointed toes.

"Very," he says calmly.

"What?" She glares at him.

"You're wondering how hard it would be to get past me."

"No, I'm not," she lies.

"And now you're lying."

"No, I'm not!" She glares. "Just stop, Derek."

"Okay." He holds up a conciliatory hand. "I'm stopping. You stop too, Addison. Stop and get a hold of yourself."

"I'm fine."

But, she's breathing hard, and her hands shake a little when she shoves her hair out of her face.

"Oh, I can see that. Totally fine."

"Derek, would you just move," she snaps.

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because despite everything, I'm not going to let you embarrass yourself in front of everyone we work with in a very public place, and say something you're going to regret tomorrow."

"How do you know I'm going to regret it tomorrow?"

"Because you always regret it tomorrow, Addison. Regret it tomorrow is your middle name, along with the ten other fancy ones."

"Not ten," she mumbles.

"Speaking of ten …"

"Shut up with the stupid counting already!"

He raises his eyebrows.

She stares right at him and starts counting, as slowly and insolently as she possibly can. Anything to get out of here. "Nine…" she drags it out. "...ten. Well?"

"I'm aware you know your numbers, Addison. The point was for the counting to calm you down, which … it clearly hasn't."

"I have a job, Derek!" She raises her voice. "I have patients, I have a service to run, I can't spend the day locked in an exam room!"

He checks his blackberry and then has the nerve to smile at her. "Actually, it hasn't been very long at all."

"Well, it feels long."

"Maybe because you're so worked up."

"I'm not worked up!"

She can't stand looking at his face anymore; she turns her back to stare at the HIPAA guidelines posted on the wall. Surely another hour has passed. Or ten. It feels like they've been in here a week.

"Derek," she turns around again. "How long are you planning to block the door?"

"Just until I'm convinced you're done ranting publicly."

"How about ranting privately? Can I do that?"

He gestures at the empty room. "Knock yourself out."

"Okay." She takes a deep breath. And then for some reason she actually does count to ten, in her head, maybe because – even though she doesn't want to admit it – it's not the worst idea in the world.

Strangely, it does help a little.

"I want you to care," she says, her voice level now.

Derek tilts his head slightly, looking surprised. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't yell at me when Mark flew out here."

"You didn't ask him to fly out here," he says.

"Well, no, but…"

"So it wasn't your fault."

"Right."

"Why do you want me to yell at you for something that isn't your fault?"

Because I hate myself, Derek, aren't you supposed to be smart?

"You want me to yell at you because you can't yell at yourself, is that it?"

Fine, you're smart.

"Maybe," she says quietly.

"Well, I'm not going to do that."

"It's more than that, Derek, it's – I don't make you angry. Not anymore."

"Why do you want me to be angry?"

"Why do I …" She pauses for a moment. "Because anger is – passion, you know?"

"That's kind of screwed up, Addie."

"Well, I'm kind of screwed up. Come on, Derek, we didn't even bother to fight by the time you left."

"What's so great about fighting?"

"We used to fight. And, uh," she stares at the pointed toes of her shoes, "we had great makeup sex, too."

"I was twenty-two when I met you, Addison. Maybe I've grown up? Maybe you have, too, although I'm not seeing that much proof at the moment?"

Okay, fine, she'll let him have that one dig. But just one.

"My point is," she continues with as much dignity as possible, "you caught me in bed with Mark and you just … walked away."

"I came back, didn't I?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"And then we fought, as I recall."

"That doesn't count."

"Throwing you out in the rain doesn't count? That wasn't enough for you?"

She inhales sharply. It's been an unspoken code that neither of them brings up that night. She had, for a terrifying unbalanced moment, been almost certain she was going to plunge down the front steps of their brownstone. She was equally certain that wasn't his intent, but she was off-balance on the damp top step, reeling from his momentum and – suffice it to say images of a shattered skull danced at the corners of her dreams for months after that.

"It counts," she mumbles. "But… it was a while ago."

He doesn't say anything, just looks at her.

"Sleeping with your best friend should make you angry," she says resolutely, not ready to let go of her theory.

He sighs. "I had to put an entire continent between us when I saw you with him, Addison. Believe me, I was angry."

"You're not angry now."

"Now? No. I'm not angry now. I'm tired now," he admits. "I'm tired."

"Me too." And just like that, whatever was left of the fight drains out of her. Exhausted, she finds herself sliding down onto the rolling doctor's stool, and she props her chin on one fist on her knees. "I'm tired too."

After a while she senses he's moved closer, maybe even beside her. That means he's not blocking the door anymore, but escaping doesn't seem as tempting now.

She feels his hand come to rest on the top of her bowed head, and they stay like that for a while until he breaks the silence.

"I do care, Addison."

She looks up, trying to keep her tone from reflecting too much hope. "You do?"

He nods. "I … can't say it's been easy or that it will be easy, but … I wouldn't be willing to try if I didn't care."

She nods slowly, accepting it.

He gives her a very slight smile. "Was that what you were all set to yell about on the catwalk?"

"Yeah. Well, I hadn't really planned it all out," she admits. "And there was … other stuff, too."

"Ah." He seems to be considering this. "Do I want to know the rest of what you were planning on saying?"

"No." She shakes her head ruefully. "I don't think you do."

"Okay, then." He offers her a hand and when she grasps it and pulls herself to her feet, he lets go only to span her waist with his hands and lift her onto the exam table, surprising her.

She smiles a little in spite of herself. She's always taken a special pleasure in his ability to lift her, in how nice it is to feel small, sometimes, instead of imposing, giant. He hoists himself up to sit next to her.

"Meredith's dating the vet," she says suddenly, surprising herself and – from his expression – surprising Derek too.

He glances at her. "Yes. She does seem to be dating the vet. How did you…"

"Meredith told me."

"You talked to Meredith about the vet?"

"Basically." She pauses. "Derek, the other night, when you came home from the vet's office and we…" Her voice trails off. She already knows the answer, and his silence confirms it.

"It's … understandable, you know, if it bothers you," she offers tentatively. He waits a while before responding.

"I don't want it to bother me," he says finally. "But I'd be lying if I said it didn't."

"Okay." She nods slowly.

"Derek … was it about me, at all? That night?"

"It's always about you," he says, smiling at her, and in that moment she doesn't care if he's lying through his teeth because warmth surges through her midsection, filling up the emptiness she's felt since that night.

For a moment after that, he's silent. Then he rests a hand on her thigh and turns so she can see his face.

"Addison … tell me what you want from me," he says quietly, surprising her. "And it would really help if you could be more specific than 'I want you to care.'"

"I want you to talk to me." She's surprised how quickly the words come out. With some effort, she blinks back the tears that have been threatening to fall since he walked off and left her in the scrub room. "Actually talk to me, instead of running away from me when I try to talk to you. I've been trying and trying to talk to you and asking and … you won't. Not now. Not now. It's always not now. Unless it's for a consult and then … well, you saw how that turned out."

"I did see how that turned out," he says ruefully.

"It's always not now, Derek. When it comes to me. And you. You always have something else to do. Like when I tried to talk to you today. Multiple times."

"I was … busy, Addison."

"I'm busy too. Everyone's busy. And I get that. I don't expect all of your time, I don't need all of your time, but Derek … I do needyou."

For a long moment, he's quiet. His hand rubs her leg, maybe unconsciously, but the pressure of his warm palm feels nice – grounding.

"Okay," he says finally, "Let's … try something new. How about, if you want to talk to me, you tell me – just wait," he says when she starts to interrupt. "I'm not finished. If you want to talk to me, you tell me, and I promise you we'll set a time to do it. It might not be right then. But it won't be never, either."

"It's always never," she says glumly.

"That's an oxymoron and – it's not true, not anymore at least."

"So how exactly is this going to work?"

"It means I won't say not now, not unless I have another time to propose. So it won't be not now, it will be … then."

"Really?"

Something flickers across his features. "Really."

She presses her lips together.

"So that's my part of it," he continues. "And you, well … you'll believe me, and stop asking."

She looks down at her hands. "I can guess how that's going to turn out."

"Addison, don't do that." He shakes his head. "Don't set us up to fail, don't set me up to fail. You want to try this, let's just try this."

"I'm sorry," she says quickly. "It's a good idea, I do want to try it, I just …"

"What?"

She's not sure, actually.

"What if we don't finish what we need to talk about?"

"Then we set another time to finish it."

She considers this. "And in the in between times … I stop asking you?"

"Right," he nods. "But that also means in the in between times, we don't have to try to … finish it. We actually take a break. Maybe even do other things."

"What other things?'

"I can think of a few." He smirks.

"Fishing." She grimaces.

He actually smiles at her. "Definitely fishing. You can come with me and tell me all about how much you hate the trailer, and Seattle, and the entire Pacific Northwest. As long as you do it quietly so you don't scare the fish."

She laughs a little in spite of herself. "Okay."

"Yeah?" He studies her face for a moment. "Good."

"Derek-"

His pager goes off. "Sorry." He glances down. "I need to go."

She nods. He swings down from the exam table, and then helps her down. He pauses with a hand on the door. "You're not going to have another catwalk tantrum, right?"

"Right."

"Walk with me, then?"

"Yeah, okay." She straightens her dress self-consciously, adjusting her lab coat around it, and follows him out the door.

"You know I need to go," he's saying as they walk down the hall, indicating the pager on his hip. "So let's … set a time to finish this."

She glances at him uncertainly, and he nods.

"Okay," she says slowly.

"Dinner?"

"Yeah. Dinner would be good."

"Eight, then," he says. "I'm finished at seven, and then there are a few pieces I need to wrap up."

"Eight," she echoes.

"Right, eight." He leans in for a quick kiss.

"Derek –"

"Yeah." He turns the next corner and she follows.

"Thanks for not letting me embarrass myself," she says softly.

"Don't mention it." He nudges her with his shoulder and waits for her to look up at him. There's a faint, but perceivable, twinkle in his eyes. "I mean ... you would have embarrassed me, too," he adds.

"I knew you had an ulterior motive!"

"And I knew you would say that."

"You don't know everything."

"Ah, but I knew you were going to say that, too."

"Derek!"

He stops her with a hand on her arm and indicates the patient's room they've reached. "This is where I get off." He leans over and kisses her cheek. "See you tonight, Addie."

And then he's gone, striding into the open room, and she can hear him greeting the patient – that warm doctor's voice of his that she loves – and grilling his resident too.

But for once, the sight of his retreating back leaves her hopeful instead of disappointed.

Aw... why can't they listen to me and work out their problems?

I've sometimes thought that argument on the catwalk was the true death knell of their relationship. Derek just coolly looking down to indicate that everyone has been watching them and then walking off and leaving Addison there, humiliated, was brutal and it felt like he was washing his hands of her. Thoughts?

I think if Derek had made more of an effort to contain the argument once it started, they could have addressed the issues without Addison getting hung out to dry. So that's the flip I think that scene needed.

I've gotten amazing suggestions and requests both in reviews and in PMs – please, keep them coming! And thank you as always for reading and reviewing and keeping me on the straight and narrow of a chapter a day. PS Climbing Way readers, I promise I'll update that very soon! I'm just out of the headspace a bit, but I'll get back in.