A/N: Damn, winter, back at it with the Addek stories! If only posting frenzies could last forever, but I'm gonna do what I can. This story needed an update. So do some others and they will get them. Can't stop, won't stop? How many dated references can I work into one author's note? (Answer: the limit does not exist.) Thank you for being beautiful, wonderful, patient readers who love exploring what Addek could have been as much as I do. Enjoy.

Let My Right Hand Forget Her Cunning

"Mark," she says tentatively as their boat floats serenely on the indoor lake, mindful to keep her voice down so as not to disturb the fish, "what did you mean when you said … when you said that Derek and I aren't perfect?"

He gives her a curious look. "No one's perfect, Addison, isn't that what you always say?"

"Well, yes, but …"

But now I'm nervous there's more to it than that.

"Then let's focus on the fish." Mark smiles at her, and she pushes down her fears.

Not like there's room in her brain right now for much except … fish.

Because it smells like fish.

A lot of fish.

But there's sun streaming in from the ceiling – what looked like mirrored glass from outside is transparent from the inside, allowing natural light to flow through into the water.

Mark is smiling uncertainly at her. "You look the same as you did the first time we came," he says, "like it's your first time."

She has a sudden urge to confess. Maybe it's the surreality of this indoor fishing dome, making it seem like she could share her secret without destroying the rest of the life the other Addison has built in this universe.

Or maybe it's just lonely keeping secrets … something she remembers well from the other universe.

A sudden tug on her line startles her.

"You did it!"

"A rainbow trout," the bushy-bearded owner booms, looking pleased, while Mitzi with her perfectly highlighted hair glares at Addison from across the indoor pond. "Look, everyone, Addison caught the first fish of the day." He beams at her. "Now that means you get to gut it."

"Gut it?" She whispers to Mark. "That's just an expression, right?"

"Says the surgeon." He grins at her. "Hey, you wanted to win…"

"True." She accepts congratulations from the – fish coach? Is that a term? – and pushes back into the water with Mark to look for more, pausing to flash a victorious grin at Mitzi.

"Why now?"

"Huh?" Mark looks confused.

She's started … so she decides to finish.

"Why learn to fish now?"

"Addison, you're acting like this wasn't all your idea. You booked the trip." He looks at her, furrowing his brow. "Florida? Sailfish Alley? The day after Christmas? Addison, how do you forget something like…. " He breaks off, maybe seeing her expression. "Hey … are you okay?"

The concern in his voice makes her feel guilty.

Mark used to sound concerned like that. Derek wasn't concerned but Mark was and he would ask if she was okay and she would always say yes, I'm fine except one time she said actually … no, I'm not – because it was true – and that's when he kissed her.

"I'm okay," she assures him now. "Really."

"Because if you're allergic to trout guts or whatever, now's the time to tell me. I can't bring you home with hives or Derek will kill me."

She smiles a little bit at the thought.

Derek cares. He actually … cares.

More guilt washes over her. The Derek in this universe should be with the Addison he married, the one who gave birth to the two children who light up the brownstone with love and laughter.

Instead, he's stuck with her. Because she's …

Because why? Because Bizzy said so, she thinks, and almost starts laughing again at the sheer insanity of all of this.

Except that it's her job to make sense of it all, apparently, so she needs to.

She tries to put together everything Bizzy has said.

Choices. This version of Bizzy loves talking about choices.

There are so many choices. Especially for women, don't you think?

One might say everything is part of everything else.

You don't have much time.

You have to figure it out.

Our choices are all we have, in the end.

She takes a deep breath … and makes a choice.

"Mark … can I tell you something? But … you can't tell Derek."

"I don't know, Addison. The last time you started a sentence this way I ended up in a fishing boat on a fake river way too early in the morning to be awake on a Sunday."

She smiles a little at this, and then feels tears spring to her eyes.

"Addison, hey. I'm just teasing." His tone is gentle. "Is something actually wrong?"

"No," she says hastily. "No, of course not. I mean, it's just … ." She pauses. "It's just, um, it's just that lately I've kind of been … well, forgetting things. Some things."

"Forgetting things," Mark repeats, looking worried. "Addison. Isn't that exactly the kind of thing you should tell Derek?"

"No," she says quickly, "it's not anything – medical, or anything like that, I just – I think I've been working too hard."

"You should get checked out," Mark says immediately.

"Okay, but wait, Mark, the reason I told you is – look, can I ask you some questions? Just – confirm some things?"

"Yeah," he says warily, "I guess, but Addison … you really need to …"

"…get checked out. I know. Just – I don't want to worry Derek over nothing. Okay?"

He looks torn. "Okay," he says finally.

"So you'll help me?"

"Yeah. I'll help you."

"Thank you, Mark," she says quietly, hoping he can't hear the desperation in his voice. "So, um, can you tell me about the fishing trip?"

He does.

"You really didn't remember," he says doubtfully, looking anxious.

"I just … needed some help," she admits. "Mark … you can't tell Derek," she reminds him.

"You really want me to keep secrets from Derek."

She looks around at the fragrant indoor fishing dome. "You're keeping this one."

"Yeah, but that's different."

"Mark…"

"Addison, I can't keep secrets from Derek. He's my best friend. It would violate the Bro Code."

"The whatcode?"

"The Bro Code," Mark says. "You know, bros before – "

"Mark," she cuts him off hastily and he smirks, "please…?"

"Fine," he says, glancing over the side of the boat when something tugs on his fishing line. "Just don't make me regret it."

She won't. She doesn't want anyone else to have to live with regrets.

She knows all too well how painful that is.

"We're happy, though," she suggests softly, "Derek and I, and … and the kids?"

"Disgustingly," he responds with a smirk.

She expels a sigh of relief.

"But was there ever a – "

Mark looks troubled, and she leans forward, ready to push the issue even though she doesn't want to, when the clanging sound of a bell interrupts them.

"Okay, time's up! Everybody out!"

..

After Addison and Mark are declared the winners for the morning – she accidentally-on-purpose smirks in Mitzi's direction when the fishing coach holds her arm up in victory like she's an Olympic gold medalist – they head out of the dome and into a long hallway.

Mark starts to turn toward a door marked MEN and then turns back. "Does, uh, does what you said before mean you didn't bring a change of clothes?"

Addison nods.

Mark shakes his head. "You really are forgetting things…."

"You promised you wouldn't tell."

"I didn't promise," he corrects her, "but I did say I wouldn't, so … fine, I won't, but I don't feel good about it."

"Sorry," she offers.

"No, you're not." He waits until her coat is buttoned and then holds the door open for her. "Come on. I'll just shower at home."

"What about me?"

"You can shower at your home … and hope that the peanuts aren't around to ask you why you smell like the fish market."

In the car Mark fiddles with the heat, looking somewhat distracted – maybe it's just the traffic, but part of her wonders if it was their conversation from before.

…and hesitates to try to revive it.

She could really use another visit from spirit-guide Bizzy. But if there's anything she knows about her mother, anything that must transcend this bizarre jump between universes, it's that Bizzy never does anything until she's good and ready to do so.

And she definitely doesn't take orders from Addison.

She thinks about the two children who live in the brownstone. They feel so … real, so alive, so hers.

"So," Mark says, his tone cautious, as the river disappears under the bridge, "did you, um, want to ask me anything else?"

No. I'm afraid.

She opens her mouth and suddenly finds she's wondering something else entirely: "Mark … was Ellie named for someone?"

"Someone? You mean something?"

"What?" She's confused.

"Look, Addison," Mark says, sounding almost angry, "it's one thing if you don't remember the fishing trip, but if you're forgetting your own kid you have to tell –"

"I'm not forgetting her!" She rests a hand on his arm pleadingly, feeling his muscles tense underneath her fingers. "Please, Mark. You can't say anything."

She can feel the moment he gives in.

Like it always has … it makes her feel guilty.

Except this time, at least she's helping Derek instead of hurting him.

And maybe, just maybe, she's going to help herself too.

..

The fates are on her side, it seems – or maybe it's Bizzy's doing, if there's a difference – because she comes home to an empty house and took the kids to the park, back soon, stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a baguette.

She hastens to shower and stuffs her fishy clothes into a Ziploc bag before tucking them deep inside the laundry hamper. Maybe I'll be back in my own universe before the housekeeper empties it.

She feels a pang at the thought of her own universe, then a flash of guilt, wondering what the other Addison is doing right now. She must miss Derek. She must miss her children.

I'm sorry, she thinks sadly, I'm sorry I love it here so much when I don't deserve any of it.

..

"Mommy!"

"Hey." Derek closes the front door against icy gusts of wind and then leans in to kiss her as the children clamor around her legs. "How was Pilates?"

"Great," she says, hoping she doesn't sound too enthusiastic to be believable. She touches her stomach muscles to suggest what she hopes is believable soreness.

"How was the park?"

"It was freezing," Nicky says reverently. "And Daddy says it's gonna snow tonight!"

Addison smiles at their bright eyes and pink cheeks and pitches in as everyone starts peeling off layers. Nick hands her his bear hat with a realistic growl that makes his sister giggle.

"Rachel's coming over!" Ellie beams.

Rachel. And she remembers that the Savvy in this universe has a child.

"Lunch?"

Addison flinches, hoping she's not expected to cook.

Derek looks confused. "I fed the kids. It's almost two o'clock. I was asking if you had lunch."

"Of course," she says quickly, "I mean of course that's what you meant, and … no, I didn't have lunch, but I'll … figure something out."

Derek is looking at her curiously. "You okay, Addie?"

She nods vigorously.

"I'll get them settled. Go eat something," he suggests. "You look hungry."

"Is that bad?" She's half teasing, forgetting for a moment he's not her Derek, and he smiles at her like her Derek would have, when things were good.

"You could never look bad. But I think you'll look better after you eat some olives."

Ooh.

"I got the ones you like," he explains.

"Thank you," she says, touched, and hoping this Addison likes – and eschews – the same olives she does.

The refrigerator in the kitchen is nothing like the one she remembers from living here, with its bare shelves, occasional container of takeout, and multiple bottles of wine.

This one is packed neatly with stacks and containers of things, brightly colored Tupperware lids, whole drawers of cheese and crisp produce.

She sits on a stool at the island with a plate of cheese and olives – she threw on some grapes for good measure, and a small hunk of fresh bread she found in a wooden box on the counter. She didn't realize how hungry she was until she started eating.

"I put on a movie for them," Derek says as he joins her in the kitchen mid-olive, "but don't tell the Mindful Parents listserv."

She smiles at his expression even if she doesn't get the reference. There's coffee left in the carafe and he pours both of them a cup.

"It's a Christmas movie," he adds, "like they'd watch anything else once the temperature drops, but at least that's sort of educational?"

"Christmas movies are very educational," she agrees.

We used to watch It's a Wonderful Life every Christmas Eve. Every Christmas … even the last one they shared in New York.

With a pang, she remembers sitting an ocean apart on the couch in the den – Derek's man cave, that was what Mark called it, to Addison's chagrin – with popcorn between them like everything was okay. Their hands brushed a few times in the bowl, sticky with butter and salt; words caught in her throat but she didn't say anything.

What if I knew that would be our last Christmas in this house?

The boxes of ornaments in weatherproof tubs in the basement. She paid someone to empty out storage. Some of these look valuable, the woman said hesitantly. They're not, Addison told her coolly down a long-distance phone line. Give them to charity or just leave them on the curb.

Are those ornaments still here?

She thinks of the taste of popcorn, the sweet scent of hot chocolate and the distance between them on that couch.

"I love you," she says impulsively, like she didn't on their last Christmas.

"I love you too," Derek says, looking a little surprised. He frowns. "Wait … are you about to tell me I have to go with you to the opera again?"

She laughs. "I'm not that strategic."

"Mm. That's not my experience," he teases.

"And anyway, that's what Savvy's for."

"I knew there was a reason I liked Savvy. Addie," he adds, glancing at her and looking a bit like he's gathering nerve, "can we talk about – "

The doorbell chimes interrupt whatever he was going to say and then four little feet are pounding out of the family room toward the front door.

Derek pulls it open and even though she knew who was coming the shock hits her straight to her bones.

"Savvy," she gasps, and then she's hugging her old friend tightly. It's been so long.

She feels the same but different, somehow a bit … softer, and then Addison is vaguely aware of a little blur darting between Savvy and the doorframe and running through the house.

And then she hugs Savvy tighter

"Addie," Savvy laughs, leaning back a little, her blue eyes twinkling the way they always have, "you act like you didn't just see me – "

"At Pilates," Addison says quickly, leaning in close to her friend again. "Sav … if anyone asks, just pretend we were at Pilates this morning."

Savvy gives her a curious look and Addison waits for her to say I hate Pilates.

"I was at Pilates this morning," Savvy says, "even if you skipped out."

"You were there?" Addison is confused.

"Sure I was there. Do you know a better way than Pilates to strengthen your core after a C-section?"

"No, of course not, I'm the one who told you that."

"And I listened. Ad … you're being weird." Savvy holds her away by the shoulders to examine her and Addison is afraid to exhale, worried the slightest twitch will give her away. "Have you been getting into the eggnog again?"

Addison laughs, relieved. "You know it's never spiked anymore."

"Yeah, with good reason, after – "

"Addie!" Weiss leans in to kiss her cheek. "Thanks for having us and making us the happiest Jews on Christmas."

"It's not Christmas yet, Uncle Weiss," Nicky points out.

"You're right, buddy, it's almost Christmas, that's what I should have said." Weiss ruffles Nick's curls. "This one's going to be a lawyer, I think."

"Nicky!" A little dark head sticks out of the open archway. "Come play, hurry!"

"Rach …" Weiss calls. "Did you say hi to Aunt Addie or did you just run straight into the family room?"

"Um…"

"Don't answer that," Weiss suggests, grinning at his daughter as she walks all the way out of the family room sheepishly. He tugs lightly on her ponytail as she passes by.

"Hi, Aunt Addie," Rachel says when she reaches her.

Addison looks down at the little girl. She looks between Nick and Ellie in age, probably closer to Nicky, with wavy brown hair a shade between Savvy's straight blonde and Weiss's dark curls, laughing hazel eyes and Savvy's dimples in her round cheeks.

Savvy's daughter. I'm actually seeing Savvy's daughter.

"Hi, Rachel," Addison responds softly. "I'm glad you're here," she adds.

I just wish Savvy could be here to see you.

Which is strange. Because – she is here, of course. This Savvy is here, but it's her Savvy that she means.

Derek heads for the kitchen to make hot chocolate, Weiss half helping him and half keeping an eye on the kids playing in the family room.

Savvy pulls her aside.

"Addie … what's with the secrets?"

"Sorry," she says quickly.

Savvy waves a manicured hand, her rings flashing. "Please. I think we're past apologies. Like decades past. I just want to make sure everything's okay."

"Yeah."

"You'd tell me, if something was going on, right?"

"Of course I would."

I didn't, last time. I was scared to tell you how bad things were getting. Maybe if I had – if I'd leaned on you, let you know how lonely I was – I wouldn't have turned to Mark.

The thought pops into her head and surprised her. It's similar to something Savvy said then, when she showed up at her apartment in floods of tears after Derek left her, oh, honey, I wish I'd known you were having a hard time, but …

"Everything's fine, Sav," she says softly, "really."

"Okay. Because the Pilates…" Savvy pauses. "This isn't like junior year when you were dating those two guys at once, right?"

No, thank god.

She laughs uneasily. "When would I have time for that?"

"Good point." Savvy glances toward the family room. "I barely have time to breathe with just one. I don't know how you do it."

It's not me. I don't deserve any of this.

"Sav," she begins.

"Mommy!" Nicky calls before she can finish her sentence.

Apologizing hastily to Savvy, she ducks out to check on the little boy.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

Nick gestures her into the family room and points to a spot high up on the as-yet untrimmed Christmas tree.

"I want to put my special ornament there, but I can't reach," he pouts. "I have to see if it's strong enough."

"Here." Addison holds out her arms to him and then lifts him to her hip – he's much heavier than Ellie but he somehow still fits perfectly, like she's been carrying him her whole life. "Now you can reach," she says.

Nicky beams and reaches out to touch the fragrant fir, then turns to Addison.

"It's strong enough," he says.

"Good." She kisses the side of his head, the scent of his baby shampoo in her nostrils.

"You're the best mommy," Nicky says suddenly, generously, squeezing her around the neck.

She hugs him back, letting his soft dark curls hide her face so no one sees the tears in her eyes.

She thinks about how much she feared having children.

That she'd be cold, like her mother.

Draw them into her own dysfunction, like her father.

Derek didn't understand, not really. He tried to, at least at the beginning, tried to reassure her, but he would see her with his nieces and nephews and not understand how she could cuddle them and dry their tears and play endless games of sardines and checkers and still not want one of their own.

She feels a twinge, wondering what her life might have been like if she'd known, years ago, that she could be a good mother.

"Mommy!"

Addison feels Ellie's small fingers tugging at her hand.

"Mommy, it's almost Christmas," she says eagerly. "Right?"

She looks down into the little girl's blue eyes and remembers Bizzy's warning.

You don't have much time.

Until what?

Until Christmas.

A shiver runs through Addison that has nothing to do with the low temperatures outside. She doesn't have much time to fix whatever she's here to fix.

To make things right.

Except she's not sure she knows what right means anymore. Does it mean going back to her lonely life in California? Or does it mean she can somehow fix her past mistakes and … what, merge with the other Addison? It's too much for her to think about – and certainly too much to share with the tiny girl who's looking up at her with a trusting expression.

"That's right, sweetie. It's almost Christmas."

I can do this, she tells herself as bravely as she can manage. I just need a little more time.

God, she hopes it's true.

To be continued. And I'm not even ashamed to say that I got a little misty-eyed thinking about what Rachel would look like. We all know that Savvy and Weiss are the patron saints of the cult of Addek. Merry Christmas in September, everyone. Until next time, which will hopefully be soon, remember that I love reviews like bros love the code. So how 'bout a review? xoxo

PS It's Labor Day weekend here in the states, so if you want to observe it like a fangirl, consider rewatching Break on Through - or at least the fabulous smackdown of Richard that gets him to accede to the strikers' wishes at the end of the episode. Eh, just rewatch the whole thing ... it's quality.