A/N: The wedding chapter. This is full flashback and it's long. Next chapter we're back in real time. Sorry for the long delay between chapters; the next one should be faster. And thank you so much for reviewing and commenting. You guys are awesome-plus.

INTERLUDE

little miss s

...

It's perfectly fine.

Liz even called him to say that Addison wanted to clear her RSVP with Derek first, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable at the wedding. With Liz he brushed it off, but he was grudgingly appreciative. Clara, his oldest niece, was always particularly close to Addison, sweet and thoughtful even as a child. And it's just a wedding. It's just one day on the beach, in and out, and two nights by the ocean with Meredith. A getaway, even.

Meredith seems much more nervous about seeing his family than about seeing Addison, presumably since she's already met her. Derek's seen her twice since the divorce and they've been cordial, civil, even working together on a patient during her second visit.

Perfectly fine.

His hands are sweating a little anyway, but he blames the low sun hanging over the ocean instead, like a heavy ball about to drop into the waves.

"Everything looks beautiful," Meredith says as they approach; there's a big open white tent in the sand, supported on dainty-looking birch poles, fairy lights strung everywhere.

"Nancy takes weddings very seriously," Derek says.

"Wait, I thought Clara was Liz's daughter."

"She is. She's Nancy's goddaughter."

"Oh."

"Nancy's always taken that pretty seriously." He rolls his eyes a little. "Actually … Nancy takes everything seriously. When it's convenient."

"You have a lot of sisters."

"That is putting it mildly." He rests a hand on Meredith's shoulder, enjoying the delicate fabric of her dress. "But they're going to love you."

…

Shepherd weddings are always chaotic.

It's the Shepherd's Third Law, the first two being Shepherd Christmases are always white and Shepherd bathrooms are always full when you need one.

His family is swarming around them, exchanging greetings, cheek kisses, exclamations, and then moving on to the next group. Derek feels like nothing less than a flower being pollinated by bee after buzzing bee, each intent on him just for a moment and then skipping on.

As the reception pounds on, he leads Meredith to the little table just under the tent that's set with champagne glasses to get a bit of a breather.

And sees they're not the only ones who had this idea.

"Oh. Hi." Addison immediately takes her hand off Mark's arm when Derek and Meredith walk up, which makes one mean little thought flash through his mind: now it's okay for you touch him, Addison, it's when we were married that you should have kept your hands off.

"Mark." He nods at his former friend and Mark nods back, seeming to be taking Derek's lead. Mark's holding a blonde toddler with a pout and a fistful of sandy shells. She's wearing an elaborate brocade dress in shades of pink and a pink satin headband. Derek watches with amusement as the little girl reaches up, removes her headband with the hand not holding her shells, and hurls it into a wet patch of sand.

"Vivian," Addison shakes her head, smiling. "You know what they say about taking off one accessory before you leave the house…" she adds, laughing weakly at her own joke and looking rather uncomfortable as she crouches down to retrieve the headband.

Vivian drops the shells, smudging a wet streak of muddy sand along her pink skirt. Derek is interested to see that neither Mark nor Addison seems to care; all toddlers are messy, he knows, but most aren't such fashion plates either.

"Down, down," Vivian protests, shoving at Mark and then tugging on his tie with one dirty little hand. Once he sets her down in the sand her pout disappears and she beams at all four adults.

"She's cute," Derek says, for lack of anything better to say; it's true, but it's not like he would have said the opposite were it not.

"She's trouble," Mark says, smiling.

Vivian ambles along in little white party shoes, stopping in front of Meredith. "Pretty," she says, reaching up to touch the lacy hem of her dress. Derek agrees; it's one of those dresses that just sort of looked like a pile of lace when Meredith was holding and then transformed when she put it on, draping around her perfectly in delicate waves.

"Don't touch, Vivi," Addison is crouching behind her in a flash, tugging her away from Meredith and getting an outraged shriek in response.

"I'm sorry. I stop noticing how dirty her hands are, but your dress really is beautiful." Addison smiles apologetically.

"It's fine." Meredith smiles back. "I prefer a little dirt so I don't have to worry if I'm going to spill something on it."

Clara and Brett's golden retriever, or Best Dog, as he was credited in the program, bounds over to inspect Vivian just then, or perhaps to see whether she's a large squeaky toy. Sand flies up from his feet, hitting all of them.

A delighted Vivian fists handfuls of his soft golden fur.

"Gentle, sweetheart." Addison reminds her.

"Gentle," Vivian repeats. "Nice doggie, very gentle. Ask first," Vivian adds firmly.

Mark is smiling. "See, it's not like she doesn't know the rules…"

Addison is kneeling next to Vivian in the sand, apparently not caring about the sand's effect on her own dress, sharing in the outpouring of love from the golden. Oliver, that's his name, as the little lacy sign hanging around his neck reminds them. Oliver turns from one fan to the next, showering them with licks. Vivian laughs with delight and Addison looks almost as entranced. Derek had forgotten that she liked dogs; it was so seemingly at odds with her persona when dogs were so messy, filled with boundless energy and so needy.

Vivian looks up at Meredith. "Come!" She commands, outstretching one little hand. Meredith looks somewhere between amused and anxious.

"Um…"

"He's very friendly," Addison assures her, perhaps thinking she was nervous around dogs.

"Okay, then." With one last glance at Derek, Meredith drops to her knees in the sand and Oliver, seeing an unlicked face, promptly makes up for his lack of attention.

Derek finds himself standing next to Mark.

"How, uh, how was your trip?" Derek asks.

"It was okay." Mark pauses. "I mean, Viv's flown before, but this was her first time cross-country."

"Ah." Derek nods. "How'd that go?"

"She was not really a fan. But I feel worse for the other passengers."

They both smile at this.

Oliver is now on his back in the sand, an expression of bliss in his soulful eyes, while six hands massage him.

"Dogs have it pretty good," Mark observes.

…

"See? Not weird," Derek says quietly to Meredith as they stroll down the wet sand closest to the water, shoes dangling. The air smells salty fresh, the ocean sparkling under the darkening sky.

"It was a little weird," she corrects. "I mean, they were perfectly nice. But you can be nice and weird."

"Are they separate axes, or one analysis, or …?"

She swats him with her program. "She's so tall."

"Who, Addison?"

"Yes, Addison." She frowns at him. "Vivian is like two feet tall."

"Oh. Well, I didn't know if you meant relatively … anyway. Yeah, I guess so. You've met her before."

"She seems taller here."

"Being tall isn't so great. Less leg room on planes … short people jogging to keep up with you … plus all the neck aches from leaning down to kiss your girlfriend…"

Meredith laughs a little at that. "Oh, are you complaining about how much work it is to kiss me?"

"Definitely not." He sweeps her into his arms before she can protest, lifting her to eye level and kissing her deeply. "See, I have my tricks."

"You certainly do," she says, a little breathlessly, once he's set her on her feet.

…

"So." Derek watches Meredith rearrange some of the salad on her plate, the rim already decorated with shrimp tails. "I wouldn't call this the typical Shepherd wedding."

"No?"

"No." He shakes his head. "My sisters were insane as brides. Even Liz. But Clara is easygoing." Clara had laughed at the drizzling rain, claiming it was good for the curl in her hair, and her new husband did too. They seem well matched. "I have no idea where she gets that from."

"She's the oldest of all fourteen, right?"

Derek nods. Clara was always calm, gentle with the numerous younger cousins and siblings who swarmed her. Whether it was inborn or the circumstances of her birth order, she handled it beautifully. Derek doesn't know much about Brett but they seem well suited, an easy affection in their words and gestures. He clearly knows the rest of her generation well, chatting with siblings and cousins alike, and friendly with all the aunts.

"She's young, to get married," Meredith says.

"She said when you know, you know." Derek smiles at this. "I think she's young, too. But she's going to grad school in London, and I guess she felt ready. Liz got married young, too." He thinks for a moment of the hundreds of memories of Clara leading throngs of little Shepherds through his mother's living room, ogling the tower of presents under the Christmas tree, or shouting with glee on the sloping lawns of the Connecticut backyard, throwing a Frisbee or a football or anything they could scrape up.

"Liz has five kids." Meredith looks impressed. "And she's a doctor, and …"

"… and an overachiever," Derek says.

"Five," Meredith repeats. "Five."

Derek laughs a little. "Don't worry, I have no desire to be as prolific as my sisters."

Meredith looks up at him from under her lashes. "Mm-hm."

"One. One's nice. Or two. Mark and Addison seem to have their hands full with one," he says, smiling.

"She's cute," Meredith offers.

"She is." Derek nods. "Does that mean you're revising your previous position that kids are to be feared at all costs?"

"I do not fear kids." She laughs. "Not even toddlers who are better dressed than I am."

"Hey, didn't she say she liked your dress?"

"Toddlers with better manners, too."

He laughs now and kisses her. "She is cute. But I was distracted … by how cute you looked with her."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and she seemed to like you."

"Don't get any ideas," she warns him, resting both hands on the lapels of his lightweight suit.

"Mm, and why not? It's a wedding, weddings put all sorts of ideas in people's heads."

"The wedding kind of idea is okay. The baby kind of idea is … still out for a vote."

"Who votes on it?"

"Well, you and me, for a start," she says, "but also my uterus."

"Wait … you get two votes?"

"No, Derek, I get one vote. My uterus gets it own vote."

"Absentee ballot," he suggests, and she laughs.

"I like seeing you with your nieces and nephews," she admits, almost shyly.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, Uncle Derek." She smiles. "You must miss them."

"I do." He nods. "But my life is in Seattle now. And they're on the east coast. Things change."

"Things change," she agrees.

"I wouldn't exchange the change for anything, you know," he says, glancing at her. She doesn't respond, but he sees a pink flush creeping along the lacy neckline of her dress.

She's extra beautiful in this light.

…

There are no assigned tables, just … wandering, picking along the sand or settling under the tent where the artificially hardened floor makes it easier for elderly guests to walk. Derek finds himself catching up later with Mark and Addison, a sleeping Vivian on her father's shoulder, while Meredith finds her way indoors to the cabana powder room down the beach.

"I'm glad we came," Mark says, sounding just south of confident. "Addison was worried, but …"

"It's fine." Derek nods, hoping this part of the conversation will be short. "You see my sisters … or Addison does."

"Nancy mostly." Mark shrugs, his gaze in the distance on the semicircle of little wrought-iron chairs. Derek can see his mother seated on cushion, surrounded by relatives.

"Meredith seems nice," Mark says. "She seems great," he adds, maybe thinking he didn't sound enthusiastic enough.

"She is nice. And great." Derek gives him a small, slightly uncomfortable smile.

"Look, Derek," Mark says abruptly, "I just wanted to say that I-"

"It's okay." Derek puts up a hand. "I get it, it's fine. Really."

He doesn't want to hear apologies right now, not while Mark is holding the product of his affair with Derek's wife. It feels so long ago already, and it was so long ago, but he recognizes it's fresher for Mark.

"Okay." Mark exhales. "Thanks."

"So you're a dad, huh." Derek gestures at Mark's sleeping daughter.

"Yeah." Mark chuckles a little. "It's nothing like how I thought it would be."

"How is it?"

"Nice," Mark says. "Nice … and great."

He breaks into and smile and Derek feels a little more comfortable now.

…

"Hey," Meredith catches up to him, tripping slightly in the low light. The sun has set, it's dark grey dusk now with only romantic strings of fairy lights illuminating the tent. Derek sees that someone has pushed out a sort of Victorian tea cart supporting a massive tiered wedding cake, all frilly white layers and explosions of pastel flowers.

"Hey." He wraps an arm around Meredith when she gets to his side. Relatives start gathering, seeing the cake.

"Looks good," Addison observes, coming up on his right side. Mark is behind her, a sleeping Vivian in his arms.

"She's out, huh?" Derek gestures at their daughter.

"Oh, yeah. The twins chased her all over the beach and she pretty much passed out. I don't think anything could wake her at this point."

Derek smiles at this.

Nancy shoulders her way through the crowd, dragging Steve, and Clara and Brett find their way to the front too. Derek is surrounded by his older sisters and their families.

Clara and Brett exchange a glance and then Clara takes her new husband's hand and steps onto a boxy driftwood-looking structure that gives her about a foot of extra height.

"Hi," she calls out, "so, um, we just wanted to thank you all so much for coming … some of you from really far away … especially you, Emily, you win the distance award."

"Emily's doing a Fulbright in Cairo," Liz whispers by way of explanation.

"It's been so great, exactly what we wanted – yeah, that's right, we wanted the rain."

The crowd laughs and she pauses, smiling.

"Actually, it rained when my grandmother and grandfather got married, and when my parents did, so actually … I'm flattered." She pauses for more laughter. "But I'm sorry for those of you who don't think rain is as lucky as I do. Anyway, the point is … we're just so grateful to all of you, to our parents ... Brett and I are each lucky enough to still have a grandmother, so Grammy and my brand-new Grandma, we love you."

Clara waves into the crowd and Derek turns to see the two older women seated together on cane chairs; each one blows a kiss.

"And we just want to say something about the people who couldn't be here tonight," she says softly, glancing at Brett, whose hand she's still holding. She gestures to him and he joins her on the box, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"It's impossible to have all of your family in one place-"

"- yeah, if you don't freakin' invite them, that can happen."

The crowd turns at the loud, unsteady voice and Derek is shocked to see a wild-eyed young woman staggering toward them across the boardwalk. She's wearing tight leather pants and a low cut shirt and can barely seem to walk in her shoes.

A murmur runs through the relatives, loudest where Derek is standing.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Nancy murmurs to Liz.

Clara, for her part, takes it in stride. "Um … hi, so … come and have some cake," she says weakly, exchanging a confused glance with her mother. "Do you want to-"

"You do realize I'm still alive, 'lizabeth, right?" The woman has made it to the front of the crowd. Her makeup is smeared and she stinks of alcohol but the pupils in her bright blue eyes speak of something else too. Liz takes a step back. "You c'n hide me away but I still exist."

Meredith looks worried. "Derek, who is that ... do you know her?"

"That is Amy," he whispers back. "And I'm not sure I know her anymore."

"Amy, what are you doing here?" Nancy steps protectively in front of Clara, who's down from the box now.

"It's okay, Aunt Nancy," Clara says.

"No, it's not. She shouldn't have come. How did she even know where we were?"

Nancy turns accusingly toward Carolyn, who is being hustled away by relatives apparently trying to protect her. "Did Mom say something to you?"

"No, she protected your little secret. But th'invitation's on the fridge an' I'm not an idiot, okay? You can't just wash your hands of me." She smacks both hands together and laughs eerily at the sound.

"How did you even know where to go?" Nancy challenges.

"Nancy … " Addison says quietly.

"What, Addie, I'm trying to – wait." Nancy turns on Addison, who takes a step back. "You invited her?"

"No, of course not."

"But it was your fridge," Nancy says slowly, "goddamn it, Addison, it was your fridge."

Addison and Mark are exchanging worried glances; Derek is busy trying to keep up with this new information.

"You're seeing her. You see her. She's in your house." Nancy pauses. "Oh my god, Addie, is Amy living with you?"

"Yes," Addison admits quietly, "yes, but-"

"For how long?"

"Six months," Addison whispers. "But Nancy, just listen for a second-"

"But nothing. I forgave you, Addison, I believed you after what you did to my brother and I saw you last week and you never thought to mention this?"

"Amy was –"

"Haven't you done enough to my family? Just stay away from us!"

"Nancy." Liz rests a hand on her shoulder, then turns to Clara and Brett, who look helpless.

"Everything's fine," Liz says soothingly.

"Everything fine," Amy slurs, "don't you know, all you have to do is say fine and boom everything's fine, boom," and on the second boom she snatches a champagne glass off the cocktail table and then drops it seconds later onto the decorative floor. It's hard to tell whether it was purposeful, but either way golden liquid splashes onto Clara's dress and the shattered glass, having struck the wrong angle against one of the chairs, scatters around her feet.

"Look what you did now!" Nancy snaps. "What is wrong with you, Amy? Why are you like this?" Nancy is in her face now, grabbing her by her bare arms and shaking her hard.

"Hey!" Steve pulls Nancy off Amy, whose hair looks wild now. Her eyes look wilder.

"Get off me, you psycho," Amy mutters, and then promptly loses her balance, going down hard on her knees, her hand in the –

"Amy! Amy, you're bleeding," Addison, sounding panicked, is crouching in front of her. "Stand up carefully, there you go, there's glass."

"S'okay, Addie," Amy says loudly, "Nancy doesn't know, I would never tell her. I can keep a secret. You know I can keep a secret."

"Mark, Derek," Addison says quietly, "if either of you has a kit…"

"I'm fine, Addie, god, you are such a worrier, you're as lame as my real sisters sometimes." Amy grabs at Addison with her bleeding hand, streaking a red stain along Addison's dress.

"Amy. Sit down," Addison pleads, trying to move her away from the glass.

"That's it. I'm calling the police."

"No, Nancy, please," Addison cuts in.

Derek will think later that this is the moment.

That it's Addison's plea that pushes Nancy over the edge – not that it wasn't with the best of intentions, not that Addison didn't want to help Amy, but after what Nancy saw as a betrayal, Addison aligning herself with Amy was more than she could bear.

"Please, Nancy, she needs help," Addison begs. "Not the police. She needs help. She's bleeding."

"Help? Like living with you, where you're apparently just letting her use-"

"I'm not letting her do anything," Addison pleads, "we just want to help her, that's all."

"She's beyond help." Nancy turns to Amy with disgust. "Just look at her."

Amy sniffles loudly, dragging her injured hand across her face. The blood mixed with smeared makeup has a positively ghoulish effect, it takes everything in him not to shudder.

"Nancy – we'll take her to a place. To a … to rehab. Please. We'll leave right now, but don't call the police."

"Addison," Mark mutters to her, but she pulls away from him and puts her arm around Amy.

"Please, Nancy, it's me you're angry with, don't take it out on Amy."

"I am angry with you but unfortunately you have an invitation so you aren't trespassing, or destroying property." Nancy has her cell phone out, and Addison reaches for it; Nancy pulls her hand out of the way and shoves Addison, who takes a step back, looking shocked.

Derek stands there on the front lines, a protective arm around Meredith, watching the scene unfold as if in slow motion.

"Addison." Mark is tugging her away from Nancy, one-armed because he's still holding Vivian. She's awake now, rubbing her eyes and whimpering at the commotion. Her whimpers turn into wails as she takes in the chaos around her and doesn't receive the attention she's expecting.

"There's already a force at the boardwalk. So it will be quick." Nancy's eyes are narrowed, her voice cold. "Amy, I hope you enjoyed your brief time on the outside before you're locked up where you belong."

"Jesus, Nancy," Mark looks shocked. "There's no need-"

"You have no idea what I need, or what anyone in this family needs," Nancy says sharply. "You're just as bad as she is." She jerks her head toward Addison. "The two of you, sheltering a criminal-"

"She's not a criminal!"

"Oh, that's right, she didn't steal from you."

"Shut up!" Amy has both hands over her ears. "God, Nancy, you're so fucking loud all the time," and she staggers away from her sister, directly into the intricately wrought iron cart holding Clara's elaborate cake.

"No!" Nancy yells but it's too late, Amy plummets into the cart, sliding to the ground as the cart takes off, careening toward the guests until someone grabs it and then the cake has splattered everywhere, white icing landing as far as the surprised looking ring-bearer, who makes the most of it by licking his sweetened hand solemnly.

"It's okay," Clara is saying, "Aunt Nancy, just forget it, there are cupcakes and things … it doesn't matter, it's just a cake."

"See, Nancy," Amy slurs, trying and failing to get to her feet. "Why can't you be more like Carly and less like a bitch."

"I'm Clara," she says patiently, "Aunt Amy, I'm really sorry, but I think you should go, before…"

"Lizzie," Amy pleads, turning to her older sister, holding up both her blood and cake streaked hands pleadingly, "Lizzie, tell Nancy to stop being such a bitch, she doesn't listen to me, no one listens to me."

"Amy, just be quiet," Liz says, "you've upset Mom, you're upsetting our guests."

"I'm your sister too. You think you can just forget about me but you can't, you can't."

"No," Liz says quietly, "you've made sure of that." She turns to Nancy. "Nance, don't call the police. It's okay, just let us handle it. Addie, Mark, you'll-"

"We'll take her," Addison says quickly.

The sound of sirens cuts across the sand and Derek sees and hears at the same time the skidding of car wheels on the pavement just beyond the boardwalk.

"No!" Amy looks dazedly from one sister to the other. "What the fuck, Nancy?"

"Amy, calm down," Steve says quietly, soothingly; he's standing in front of the twins, who are clutching each other's hands nervously.

"Tell the cops to go away," Amy pouts like she's eight again and Nancy practically snarls.

"Why, are you carrying drugs? Did you bring drugs to your niece's wedding, Amelia?"

"Don't call me that," Amy whimpers.

Then there's a swarm of blue, of raised voices, of force and clanking silver and Amy's terrified yelps.

"Addie!" Amy shrieks as she's handcuffed, and Addison starts to lunge forward.

"Amy, it's okay, it's okay…"

Mark is holding onto Addison with the hand not cradling their now crying toddler. "You want to get arrested too? Stay back."

Derek and Meredith exchange a glance.

"Amy, please, just cooperate," Addison pleads as Amy struggles; the officer, seeming to lose patience, shoves her onto the cocktail table to finish handcuffing her and Amy and Addison shout at the same time.

"You're hurting her," Addison yells, "she's tiny and you're hurting her, stop it. Can't you see she's bleeding?"

"Simmer down, lady, unless you want to go with her," another officer says to Addison, who seems to be about to say something when Mark takes his hand off her arm and claps it over her mouth instead – which Addison appreciates just about exactly as much as he would have expected.

Mark turns to Derek, a pleading expression on his face, and Derek holds out his arms for his sobbing child. "Thanks," he mutters, and while Vivian kicks Derek viciously with her tiny party shoes, Mark uses both his arms to muscle Addison back in line.

"Stop it," he says loudly enough for Derek to hear, but not the officers. "I'm not bailing you out of jail because you pissed off some 'roided-up cop on a power trip. Things are bad enough."

Mark clearly needs both his hands to deal with Addison so Derek shifts Vivian into a more comfortable position now that he's pretty sure she's bruised his kidneys. He tries awkwardly to comfort her, saying the sorts of things one does to a crying toddler, like shh and it's okay except that crying seems like a perfectly normal reaction to this chaos, so shh is rather hypocritical, and it would be an outright lie to suggest that it's actually okay. But he does his best. Meredith has one arm on his back supportively, the other trying to help him with Vivian.

"Addie, help me!" Amy is calling, crying now, and Derek can see that Addison, in addition to looking devastated, seems close to tears too.

"Please, Amy, just go with them and stop fighting," she cries.

At that moment gold and green fireworks burst into the air over the water from an unseen jetty, and the gaggle of Shepherds finally has somewhere else to look.

"I guess someone should have told them to hold off on those," Clara murmurs to her new husband, who has a hunk of ganache on his collar. He hugs her and it seems like both of them are disappearing from the chaos.

The fireworks are loud, and even with the officers and the yelling, and the smashed cake, and Amy's ranting, they're shocking enough to divert attention, with all the oohs and ahs that go with it. Liz urges the group toward the water, collaring Carly to help her get the guests in line, and slowly most of the gathered onlookers start moving away.

Amy stares at the lit-up sky with bleary eyes as the officers tow her through the sand.

"Happy new year!" Amy yells. "Auld lang … something, let go of me, you fucking pigs, you pervs-" her voice trails off as she's shoved into the cruiser whose lights are already blinking.

They've barely turned over the engine when Nancy rounds on Addison, who's leaning her head on Mark's shoulder, clearly exhausted. "Get out," she snaps.

"What?" Addison looks around. "Nancy, I'm sorry-"

"Get the hell away from my family."

"Hey." Mark puts out a hand between them. "Take it easy, Nancy. We'll leave, you don't need to – "

"Permanently," Nancy hisses. "You'll leave permanently."

Addison is reaching for Vivian now; Derek places the child in her arms, Addison whispers her thanks. Vivian stops crying when she's back with her mother, just sniffling hitching breaths.

"Addison," Nancy is glaring at her. "Do you hear me? You've done enough to hurt this family. Get out of our lives. And this time, stay out."

Addison's face is a closed mask. Derek knows that look. He's not sure if Nancy knows that insults don't break her. Mark, whose hands are closed around Addison's shoulders, seems to know.

Steve looks apologetic. "Listen, guys, it's been a tough night. Let's all just calm down, and-"

"You stay out of this," Nancy snaps at him. "You don't know her like I do."

And then Nancy and Steve are arguing, and Mark is muttering apologies to Derek and a quick nice to meet you take care jumble to Meredith and then leading Addison, Vivian in her arms, away across the sand.

"I told Liz not to invite her," Nancy announces to no one in particular. "I told her."

"Shut up, Nancy," Liz says tiredly, her arms around her two youngest, who are wearing matching pale lilac bridesmaid dresses – spattered with cake icing – and circlets of daisies in their dark hair. Chloe is sniffling; Caitlin just looks dazed.

Derek looks down at his tie, which is wet with Vivian's tears and possibly other things; there's a trail of fruit filling streaking one of his cuffs, settling in the crevices of the cuff links that used to be his father's, the ones he wore in case his mother noticed (she did, and she smiled), right before she…

"Derek … you okay?"

Meredith, who has pink frosting on one cheek and a scratch on her wrist where a struggling Vivian left her mark, squeezes his hand.

"I'm okay." He wraps an arm around her and she leans against him. "Hey, Mer … remember when I said things were never boring with the Shepherds?"

"Yeah. I thought you meant you played flag football or something," she admits, and he can hear in her familiar voice that she's smiling.

"No, those were the Kennedys. The Shepherds' sports are a little rougher and our dysfunction is a little closer to the surface," he says grimly. "Meredith … I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about." She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him. She tastes like the cake the waiters never had a chance to serve.

She leans back into him and he wraps an arm around her narrow waist, enjoying the feeling of her warm body against his. Quietly, they watch the rest of the fireworks over the water, their silence saying everything else that needs to be said.

As a last gold streak fizzles out in the darkened sky, Derek fingers the ring in his pocket, the one his mother slipped to him earlier. He was going to wait until they were back in Seattle to ask the question, but now he thinks the vast white bed in their airy oceanside room is the right place. That later tonight is the right night. He's never been more certain that Meredith is the right woman.

When you know, you know.

... and that was the wedding. Next time we're back in real time for Amy and Nancy to have it out. Yikes. Please review and let me know what you think - it keeps me on those frequent updates!

PS the title for this chapter, Little Miss S, is an Edie Brickell song I highly recommend. It's very hashtag-Amy.
PPS for those of you who read the chapter before I fixed the error and caught my Meredith/Addison mixup - honestly, with so many MerDer and Addek chapters going up simultaneously, I'm amazed it was the first time that happened (I think). Sorry!