A/N: TGIF, or more specifically, TGI Fluffy Friday. This is light and maybe just a wee bit dirty. No angst today, at least in this chapter. This one is for luvaddek, who requested a flip of the laughing, head-banging, phone-call-intercepting scene that picks up right after Derek and Addison have "the most boring sex ever." I think someone else requested it way back when too, and it makes sense, because even though the end of the episode is a major gut punch (in a ship that is like 75 percent gut punches), the beginning of the episode is a little hopeful. They're laughing together, attempting to fix it, and they're not acting like strangers. We're Addek lovers, we live off crumbs, and we can handle it. So, this is a flip of that scene. "Okay, we're going to keep doing this until we get it right," is what Derek said, and here is what they could have done ...

Until We Get It Right
(Episode 2.23, "Blues for Sister Someone")

"Dr. Dandridge, we're going to have to call you back," she says into the phone, ducking and weaving to keep Derek from snatching the phone. "We're trying really hard to have some decent sex here."

He doesn't want to laugh.

It's not funny, except he can't help laughing, the movement making her head bob where it's resting on his bare chest, because it's just so …

"What? Derek, what is so funny?"

"Addie, would you just – " He makes one last grab for the phone but she pulls it out of his grasp, then listens with a confused expression to the other end.

"He hung up," she says.

"What do you expect, Addison, he's a vet, not Dr. Ruth."

Now she starts laughing. "Well, he interrupted a very … a very …" She stops talking. "What did he say, anyway? Has Doc improved?"

"Yeah, uh, I can pick him up this morning."

That's true. That's not a lie.

"Oh. Good." She pushes off of him so she's leaning down over him, her long hair tickling his bare skin. "This morning like … right now this morning? Or later this morning?"

Right now.

He should say right now, except one of her hands is sliding over his hip, and he knows perfectly well that Addison doesn't like to give up until she gets something right. Just ask her; she can still go on and on about the problem set he stopped working on and she had to finish the whole thing by herself.

"Then aren't we going to try again?"

He touches his forehead gingerly. "I don't know if our skulls can take it."

"Derek, come on…"

"Whining isn't sexy," he scolds her.

"Neither is picking up the phone in the middle of – "

"It could have been the hospital!"

"But it wasn't." She sighs. "Okay, fine. Forget it. We'll just … call it a day. I guess that's it. No more decent sex for us."

He sits up, running a hand through his hair. "Do you really need to be so melodramatic?"

"No, it's fine. Really. It's great."

"Addison." He groans out her name. "Would you just – wait a second," and he catches her wrist when she starts to swing her legs out of bed and pulls her back onto the sheets.

"It's okay, just forget it."

It takes every effort not to roll his eyes, but he's well aware that martyrdrom isn't sexy either will probably just get him in further trouble. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to forget the monotony of their rote sex, the awkwardness of the phone call, his slight irritation now. He can't be that irritated, because she's still naked, and her hair is soft is loose, she's not wearing makeup – it's the Addison only he gets to see, and she's a lot harder to forget than the one everybody sees.

"Look, you're right," he says. "We used to be really good at this."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"No, I mean – it's science. We've done this before. We've done this really well before."

"Okay," she says slowly. "So…?"

"So, we just have to isolate the problem, and then we can treat the problem."

She rolls over to him, propping up on her elbow. "I'm listening."

"We'll need to review the previous treatments. Why did they work, and not this one?"

She frowns. "Okay. Well … we weren't in a trailer, first of all," she says, starting with the obvious.

Now he frowns. "And you hadn't slept with Mark … second of all," he points out.

"That's not true." She points a finger at him. "We had decent sex in the hotel before I moved into the trailer, and that was after Mark. More than decent. Pretty good, in fact."

"Yeah." Guilt tugs at the corners of his mind. That wasn't exactly … but she doesn't know that.

"And it wasn't – "

"It's the trailer," he interrupts her.

"What?"

"The trailer. The trailer is the problem."

"The trailer is the problem." A look of amazement crosses her face. "I'm so glad to hear you say that. You know, I've scoped out some of the local architects, and – "

"No, I mean sex in the trailer. Not living in the trailer. It's a great trailer," he reminds her.

"Derek…"

"Get up," he says.

"What?"

He swings over her, managing to do it without crushing her with his weight, which is always a little bit impressive, and then pulls the covers off her.

"Hey!"

She sits up, affronted, and when she reaches for the sheets he grabs her hand instead. "Get up," he repeats, and he pulls until she's standing.

"It's not that I don't appreciate creativity," she says kindly, "but this is a trailer, Derek. We don't have a lot of options other than the bed. We could try standing up." She thumps one of the walls. "But how sturdy is this thing? Because remember that student apartment where –"

She shrieks with surprise as he pulls her over to the door in one quick gesture and opens it.

"Derek, what are you – close the door right now!" She attempts to cover herself with her hands.

"I will, as soon as we're on the other side of it."

She looks down. "Are you insane? I'm naked."

"I know you're naked. It's not unintentional. Some of our best sex has happened when you're naked."

She looks from him to the open door, to her naked body, and back to the open door.

To the endless view of … nothing.

Not nothing.

Woods.

Leafy, prickly woods filled with … nature.

"Close the door," she hisses.

"Come outside with me."

"Honey … it's a very chilly morning."

"So we'll heat it up. Addison." He makes a move that looks worryingly like he's attempting to throw her over his shoulder and she jumps back in time to avoid it.

"Absolutely not. No. No, no, no." She folds her arms. "This is crazy."

"It's not crazy. Boring sex is crazy. This? Is not crazy."

He holds out his hand again. He doesn't seem bothered that he's naked.

"But, Derek … poison oak …"

"I already showed you how to find it, didn't I, after your … problem?"

She nods.

"Well, then try not to lie down in it this time. I have other plans for your – "

"Derek!" She interrupts him before has to hear the end of the sentence.

And then his arm is around her and he's towing her back to the door. It's pretty hard to avoid him when the trailer is about twelve inches wide. Damn it.

"Okay, fine!" She holds up both her hands. "I'll go … outside with you, but I'm putting on clothes first."

"Putting on clothes is not how you have decent sex."

"I have a bunch of examples to dispute that," she says mildly. "Graduation. That was clothes and robes. Our engagement dinner. That time we were flying to Turks and Caicos and–"

"Come outside with me," he interrupts, "and next time we can try it your way."

She looks down at her naked body. The breeze wafting into the trailer feels fresh and clean. It's not cold exactly, but it's … cool.

Her gaze lands on her bare feet with their pink manicured toenails.

Choose your battles, that was what Savvy used to say, and it makes sense since she and Weiss are both lawyers and Addison once witnessed them spend two hours passionately debating conical coffee filters versus basket-shaped ones – with colorful exhibits and sworn witnesses, Addison herself chief among them.

At any rate, it's not the worst advice. Derek must agree because he nods and that's how she finds herself escorted – escorted sounds nicer than dragged – outside the trailer on an only warmish spring morning wearing nothing except green wellington boots.

"I can't believe I'm doing this. People are going to see us," she hisses.

"We have no neighbors. There's no one for miles and miles around. That's the beauty of this land."

"No one can see into the garden at home," she grumbles. "And it's more convenient, and there are no wild animals."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure the building next door can see in, and the Quincys, and that new high rise they built on –"

"What?" She stops in her tracks. "You swore during that hammock incident that no one could see!"

He blushes a little. "I may have been … in the moment," he admits.

"Oh my god. People probably have video of us and – we're probably on – " she pauses, trying to remember the name of that site her niece showed her. "That thing where you put … videos and stuff."

"Oh, that thing." Derek shakes his head. "Vanity, thy name is Addison. It's not like we're that photogenic."

"Yes, we are," she says smugly.

"Fine, we are."

"Well, I'm not putting on a show for Seattle."

"Seattle can't see us!"

A grey squirrel chooses that moment to sit up on its hind legs and … he hates to admit it, but it's technically staring at them.

This is not lost on Addison. Of course it's not.

"No animals, Derek, no animals! Come on. It's enough that Doc likes to watch."

He snorts. "Oh, come on, Addie, that's what dogs do."

"My dogs never watched!"

"Well, pet dogs watch. Those … fox hunting hounds or whatever you people had when you were a kid aren't pets. They're … something else."

She's pretty sure she can hear him mumble status symbols.

"Derek!"

"Addison, their names were even longer than yours, and that's saying something. Just ignore the squirrel," he says impatiently, "let him watch pay-per-view like the rest of the woodland creatures. We can keep walking."

"Just what I was hoping you'd say," she replies sarcastically, but she keeps pace at his side, arms folded across her chest.

"There's a clearing up ahead." He points. "Just a little further."

"But I'm freezing," she whines.

He stops to look at her. "You do look … cold," he says and when she tries to slap him in response he grabs her hand and pulls her against him.

"How are you this warm when we're naked outside?" She grumbles the question but she's not actually annoyed, she's too busy appreciating the heat.

"I'm efficient."

"That's not …"

"Fine." Derek wraps the thin blanket that's been folded over his arm around her shoulders. "Better?"

"Yes," she says with dignity, or as much dignity as one can have when one is naked except for a plaid wool blanket that doesn't cover nearly enough and rubber rain boots.

"Good. Then stop whining."

"I'm not whining."

He just takes her free hand – she'd object, but his is so much warmer – and pulls her along behind him.

She's actually quiet for a few minutes, and then starts grousing again when the path inclines.

"Where is this clearing, Vancouver?"

"Just a little further. Come on, Addie, you pay money to a gym so you can use a machine that simulates walking. This is free and beautiful and … beautiful."

"You already said that."

"Just … come on." He tugs on her hand and she follows him again, scowling.

"Here," he says finally. She's pretty certain a lifetime has passed.

"Here," she repeats dubiously.

He spreads his hands. "Look around."

"I'm looking."

It's green, and leafy, and woodsy, and … outside.

And she's still naked.

"It's … pretty," she says reluctantly, "but, Derek – "

"No phone," he says triumphantly. "No interruptions."

"But there are squirrels."

"Addie, they're not watching us, for crying out – okay, fine, that one over there might be watching us."

Derek frowns at a squirrel who's holding a nut and … okay, squirrels can't smile, but there's definitely an insolent expression on its furry little face.

"Scram," Derek says. "Go. There are … a lot of acorns on the other side of the clearing, I heard."

"Are you trying to reason with a squirrel?"

"How is that less logical than assuming a squirrel is hoping to make an x-rated video of us?"

"When you say it like that …"

He plucks the thin blanket from her shoulders and she yelps. "I'm cold!"

"But not for long." He raises his eyebrows and spreads the blanket out on the ground.

She can't help noticing that he doesn't look very … cold.

"Fine. But if I end up with poison oak … or poison anything … then this is going to be the last time you're going to see me naked for a long, long time."

"That's okay," he says cheerily, "I already have it memorized."

"It? It?" She doesn't have enough time to tell him how offended she is because he's sweeping her off her feet – literally, which she's not too cold or too annoyed to realize is pretty great – and he's gentle enough when he sets her down on the blanket to keep the hard ground from bothering her and then after that … ferocious enough to keep her so occupied that she forgets about Seattle's infestation of sex maniac squirrels.

Until she hears a distinctive crackle.

"Derek … I heard something …"

"Just tell the squirrel I'll buy it a copy of Playrodent if it leaves us alone," he mutters into her hair.

"Derek!" She shoves at his chest.

"What? You're the one who told me to – wait, what's wrong?" he interrupts himself when he sees the expression on her face, withdrawing his hand.

"Derek," she whispers, fear washing over her. "I'm pretty sure I heard a bear."

"Okay, just calm down. This is completely the wrong time of year for bears."

"It's not a fucking time share, Derek, it's the middle of the woods! This is their space and we're … desecrating it … oh my god." She covers her face with her hands. "I can't believe I'm going to die in the forest in horrible shoes. I must have really pissed someone off up there."

"You're not going to die. Speaking of which, I wish you'd take those horrible shoes off. They're chafing me." He rubs at a sore patch on his hip that's shaped almost precisely like the bottom of her boot.

She responds by grabbing him hard enough with her legs to make him yelp.

"So I'm going to die like a Bond villain, then," he mutters. "Fine … could be a lot worse."

"Derek, you have to do something," she hisses.

"I was doing something, and you seemed to be enjoying it, but you interrupted my rhythm."

"Not something like that, something to protect us from the – " She pauses and then covers her mouth to muffle her whimper when the sounds happens again. "Derek…"

He looks serious now. "That time I heard it too."

"What are we going to do?" She digs nervous fingers into his arms. "Derek?"

"Just … stay calm," he tells her.

"That's easy for you to say, the bear is obviously going to go for me first."

"Why, because you're prettier?"

"No. But thank you," she says sincerely, knowing that's not necessarily easy for Derek to admit. "Because I'm smaller, and – excuse me," she says sharply when he looks confused, "are you calling me fat?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm doing. You're so on point … as always." He shakes his head. "Look, can we just stay focused here?"

"On what? Our imminent doom?"

"Well … yes." He sits up and hauls her against him, listening closely.

And he hears it again.

He curses softly and she shudders against him.

"Derek," she whispers into his neck, panicked.

"I know, I know, just … stay still."

"It's not a bumblebee!"

"Fine, then go charge it. Good luck with that."

She pinches him and he pinches her back, and then she wraps her arms tightly around him. "We're going to die," she moans.

"No we're not," he says, not sounding entirely confident.

The sound is getting louder. Heavy steps. Coming closer.

A branch crackles and she shrieks; he holds her close. "We're not going to die," he repeats. "Look, you just sit here stay still and I'll go distract it. Maybe it'll get tired after … that."

"No!" She hangs onto him. "I'm not going to let you be … bear bait."

"Well, I'm not going to let you be eaten."

For a moment they just hold each other tightly, eyes squeezed shut.

"Derek," she says urgently, "before we … I mean I just need to tell you that …"

The sound is louder. Maybe it's too late to be bait.

"I know. I love you too," he says into her hair, eyes still closed, "and I'm sorry I dragged you out into the – "

"Hi there, folks."

They jump apart so quickly their heads bang into each other's … for the second time that morning.

Once they stop seeing stars, they look up to see see a tall man in mirrored sunglasses, wearing an olive windbreaker, a tan ranger hat, and very similar boots to the ones that are currently the only thing on Addison's body.

There's a moment of chaotic fumbling where Derek and Addison are both trying to stand and trying to cover themselves and each other; finally, Addison yanks the plaid blanket off the ground and wraps it around herself – she can't cover everything, but at least something is better than nothing.

"Hi," she says once she's somewhat covered, trying to ignore the fact that Derek is wearing nothing but folded hands that aren't doing much to hid anything. He steps behind her with a dark look. Addison smiles as pleasantly as she can. "What can we do for you, um … officer?"

The ranger frowns. "Are you aware that this is state-owned land?"

"State owned," Addison hisses, turning to Derek. "I thought you owned it."

"I do. I mean, up to a – certain point …" He looks helplessly at the park ranger.

"Oh, you're that New Yorker who moved in! Welcome," he says, sounding a little warmer.

"He's not a New Yorker anymore," Addison grouses. "He's a flannel-wearing, wood-chopping – ow!" She rubs the spot where Derek pinched her.

"I didn't realize we'd gone past the property line," Derek says with as much dignity as a naked man hiding behind his half naked wife can summon.

"Well, you did. This land has a conservation order on it," the park ranger says, frowning. "It's a violation to enter without a park pass. I don't suppose you have a park pass."

"Not exactly," he admits.

"And it's a misdemeanor … class C … to desecrate park land."

"We didn't desecrate it!" Addison protests. "Not yet, anyway," she mutters for Derek's benefit, neatly sidestepping his pinch.

He frowns at Addison. "Are you a professional?"

"Yes, I am." She stands up a little straighter. Maybe he saw the article in the Seattle Dispatch about the hospitals new neonatal wing. She and the photographer argued about the wind machine, but in the end she's pretty sure everyone was happy.

"Addison," Derek says behind her. "I don't think – "

"And as a professional," she speaks over Derek, "I'm sure you can let it slide this once?"

"I'm not going to arrest you," the park ranger says earnestly. "I do think you should make some different choices."

"Like not choosing him," Addison mutters darkly, tossing a glare at Derek over one bare shoulder.

"Exactly. We can help you. There are programs – "

"Listen," Derek interrupts hastily, "it's not what you think."

"You pipe down back there, John."

"His name isn't John," Addison says distractedly. "Derek, stop pulling my – oh. No, no! I'm not that kind of professional."

He doesn't look convinced.

"I'm a surgeon. A world-renowned surgeon," she says primly, picking a foot-long twig out of her hair. "Do I look like a prostitute?" She pauses. "Don't answer that."

"Can you just shut up," Derek mutters behind her.

"You shut up! You're the one who got us into this."

"You're the one who decided to tell the ranger you're a prostitute," he hisses.

"You're the one who thought sex in the woods was a good idea!"

"Well, you're the one who – "

"Say no more," the ranger interrupts, holding up a hand. "I didn't realize you two were married."

Addison has a feeling she should be insulted by that comment, but she's too annoyed to work out why.

"It's true," Derek says gravely. "We've been married for eleven years. And we were just trying to –"

"Don't you dare," Addison interrupts, turning around to glare at him.

"Addison, the man needs to know."

"Don't, Derek, I swear, if you say it then this morning's boring sex will be the last time you see me naked for at least a decade and we'll never have decent sex!"

He stops talking.

She frowns. That seems too easy.

"So you're not going to tell him," she says slowly.

"I don't have to." Derek holds his palms up innocently. "You just did."

Oh, she's going to kill him. She settles for shoving him with both hands, which makes the blanket drop.

Fuck.

Hastily covering herself up again, she stands up to her full height. "Officer – I mean Ranger – "

"I've been married fourteen years," the ranger interrupts. "Say no more. I know how important it is to keep things fresh. For anniversary last year, we – well, let's say we … celebrated."

"Really?" Derek peers out from behind Addison.

The ranger nods, then beckons Derek, who gives Addison a little push and approaches him.

"You know what I've found." He looks at Derek, then leans over to say something to him Addison can't hear.

"Really?" Derek raises his eyebrows. "And that's legal in Washington?"

He nods, then says something else Addison can't hear.

"Ohhh." Derek lifts both hands in front of him, moving them slightly as if he's trying to picture something. "You go right first? Hmm."

"But only after the – "

"Derek." She tries to get his attention, but the park ranger is muttering something else to him.

"I like that idea. But I don't know where I'd buy one of those, though," Derek muses. "Plus, she's allergic to – "

"Derek! Do you mind?" She wraps the blanket tighter around her.

"Not at all."

"Are we free to go?" She aims her question pointedly at the ranger, who nods.

She doesn't speak to Derek for the entire walk back to the trailer, but she does stay behind him, enjoying the bootprint on his hip that's really his fault.

"Can we go inside?" She pauses as the approach the trailer. "Or do you have any other bright ideas?"

"Excuse me for trying to liven things up."

"You almost livened us all the way to jail."

"Just … go inside," he sighs, opening the door.

She drops the blanket on the floor of the trailer, not minding – okay, maybe even liking – that it's muddy and grassy from their jaunt.

But then again, so is she.

"I need a shower," she groans. "I never even got my decent sex and I'm filthy anyway."

"Stop complaining about everything." He turns the shower on for her.

"Then give me something not to complain about!"

He raises his eyebrows and for a moment she thinks he's going to yell at her.

Then her back hits the back of the shower, his lips capture hers while hot water streams around them, and she stops thinking anything at all.

…

She leans down to smile at him when they pause for a breath, trying her best to keep the thigh wrapped around his waist from irritating the bootprint she left on him earlier. "This is nice."

"Yeah, it is." He tangles a hand in her wet hair and pulls her down for another kiss. The water stopped being hot a while back but there's enough steam to keep them warm, the heat of her around him is practically enough to scorch and she's not cold either with his hands supporting her weight and pulling her against his body.

The next time she speaks it's just his name, and she's this close to scalping him, but he can't complain.

He'd almost forgotten how well they fit together; their matched heights make them into puzzle pieces – dirty puzzle pieces, she said once, laughing – because every soft curve of her body fits perfectly against one of the hard planes of his, her narrower hips are tucked neatly against his, the long muscles of her thighs mean she can half support herself while he does the rest.

And the rest ends in a loud cry from her and a self-satisfied groan from him, as she throws her head back …

Directly into the shower wall.

She's half-cursing and half-laughing.

"I think I have a concussion."

"Nope." He's been rubbing the back of her head, soothing the bump, and he checks her pupils to humor her. A little dilated, but they both know why. "You're fine."

"Fine. But you have to make it up to me."

"Didn't I just – fine," he says with dignity. "I was planning on it anyway, actually."

He can see her lips pursing for a retort, so he makes sure she's sufficiently distracted.

…

"Derek," she says the next time they pause, and he's helping her to her feet while apologizing silently to all the deities whose names he just took in vain. "Derek … why didn't you just suggest this in the first place?"

She gestures at the shower.

He's brushing wet hair out of her face with surprising tenderness; her cheeks feel cold. Damn trailer plumbing. "

"Because it's a very small shower," he reminds her.

"Not too small, though."

"No. Not too small."

"We could have just started out with this," Addison says, resting her head against his shoulder while she catches his breath. "No woods, no park ranger, no twigs in my – "

"But we didn't," Derek says. "We started with that. And now we're here."

"Because we never make things easy for ourselves," Addison muses.

"Or for each other," he adds.

She nods, contemplating this while he massages her cramped hamstrings.

"Derek…"

"Yeah, Addie."

"Some of the best things aren't easy – don't you dare turn that into a double entendre."

"I wasn't going to," Derek assures her.

"Really?"

"No," he admits. "I was going to."

"All I was saying," she continues with dignity, "is that I don't mind that you're hard – oh come on, Derek, grow up, we're almost forty!"

"We're old," he says mournfully, propping himself up on the shower wall and pulling her against him.

She wraps wet arms around his waist. "Speak for yourself."

"You're two months older," he reminds her.

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

They both shut up, finding better things to do with their mouths than bicker.

…

Their positions now are reminiscent of earlier that morning – except they're not fighting over the phone. Derek's pretty sure they're too depleted to fight over anything at this point. Her head is resting on his bare chest, long red hair spread out over his shoulders and, despite his best attempts to tame it, tickling his neck. He's drawing lazy circles on her spine, enjoying the way her body shifts a little to welcome his touch.

"See?" Her voice is muffled, and she kisses the skin closest to her lips. "Indoors. Decent sex, indoors, Derek."

"Decent?" He stills his fingers. "That was more than decent."

"Fine, it was good."

"Good." He frowns, pushing on her shoulders. "It was really good, and you know it."

"It was … good." She smirks and tries to lie back down on him but he holds her off.

"Oh, I don't think so. Admit it, or you can find a non-human pillow."

"You know it was really good, honey, I just could have lived without the … nature walk, first."

"The nature walk was great."

"And the park ranger," she adds.

"Yeah, that might have been … less great. But I'm still glad we ran into him. Otherwise I wouldn't have gotten the idea for the thing."

"The thing …" She furrows her brow. "The thing in the shower with the – "

He nods.

"That was the park ranger's idea? Derek!"

"What? You seemed to like it."

"I never said I liked it."

"Well … you didn't have to say it…"

"Derek!"

"Addie, you said you wanted to have decent sex."

"With you! Without any state employees involved!"

"That is elitist." He frowns.

"What? How can you – Derek," she starts huffily, propping herself up on her elbows to suggest she's winding up for a long speech.

So he leans in to kiss her before she can finish … and she kisses him back … and he pulls her down on top of him … and she lets him.

Because they both know there's only one thing that's better than finally having really good sex.

And that's having more really good sex.

... with that under their belts (so to speak) maybe they could have been in a place to share their respective terrible days with each other and have actually hot shower sex instead of angry, depressing shower sex at the end of the episode. And I realize I am making a habit of writing Derek and Addison and sex in inappropriate places but I can't help it - there's something about them that just makes me think that was their thing. PSA: Writing is fun, and I enjoy it, but I share it because I want you to enjoy it and I want to know what you think. So let me know. Don't make writers whose work you enjoy beg for reviews! (We'll do it, but we'll be mad, 'cause we don't know you that well :) )