Now twenty-nine weeks pregnant, Addison was ready to have everything return to how they should be. Where most parents would mark the dates of their projected delivery date on their calendars out of joy their new child would arrive—Addison Montgomery was merely counting the days until she was no longer housing a kicking, punching, two-pound parasitic spawn of Derek Shepherd: Woodsman and Collector of Fishing Tackle within her uterus. She was glad things were turning around between them, and that Mark had stopped begging her to come home with him. Derek had ceased suggesting they should be together, and he seemed happy with Meredith, but Addison wasn't completely fooled by what was likely a facade on his part.
Still, she met with him on occasion. She had to, he was the father of her child. The arrangements for raising their son, for delivery, for their own relationship—all the things a normal couple had to go through, were still upon them. She liked to pretend it was bothersome to be in his company, but truthfully, it felt nice to have someone to share those troubles with. It was a huge relief, and things were almost beginning to feel something resembling normal. Of course, there was nothing quite normal about their situation.
She was scheduled to have lunch with him in the cafeteria. They had not made time for one another in the last two years of their marriage, yet now that it was lying in shards around their feet, much of their time was spent together. The irony was not lost on Addison as she sat waiting for him, picking at a so-called pasta salad.
"That looks absolutely disgusting," said the voice of trouble and destruction from over her shoulder.
She turned to peer at Mark Sloan with a frown. He held a cup from Starbucks and a sandwich from a nice, quaint deli from down the street. He also wore his trademark wolfish grin, the one that always made her knees turn to butter... But she didn't like to think about it like that. "And it is. What do you want?" She hadn't spoken with him in several days, and she liked to think that she preferred it that way. But there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that kept achingly reminding her that that was not true.
"I was going to say that I went out and bought you this lunch, but now I don't know if I'll say that." He hid the coffee and sandwich behind his back, pretending to look hurt.
She turned around to face him better, wanting to smile at his thoughtfulness. But he was never thoughtful—she wasn't sure he even knew what the word meant. "You didn't buy that for me. Come on Mark, like I don't know you better than that."
His brow furrowed. "Yes I did. I took special time out of my day to ponder what Addie would like for lunch. And then I saw her eating that excuse for pasta she got off the hot bar, and I knew that I had to give her this delicious fifteen-dollar hand-made deli sandwich with everything she likes on it that I don't. And a hot chocolate, see, because she can't have coffee since she's pregnant with my ex-best friend's baby. That's how much I like you." He shoved the cup under her nose and she glanced up at him curiously when she found he was telling the truth; it was hot chocolate, and Mark didn't drink hot chocolate when there was plenty of good coffee to be had.
"You bought me lunch?" She said softly. No one had done anything so nice in a very long while.
"Yes. But now you don't get it. Because you're mean." He smiled wickedly and left her to go sit at another table, his eyes focused meaningfully on her as he took a monstrous bite from the sandwich.
Addison sighed and turned back to her drab meal, wondering why she had even bothered paying for it. It wasn't worth the Styrofoam plate it had been slopped onto. Nevertheless, she was starving, so she picked around at it anyway.
"What's his deal?" Derek asked as he finally came to sit down across from her. He was looking over his shoulder at Mark, who at least now had the decency to look away. "Was he bothering you?"
She shook her head quickly. "No, he bought me lunch. But then he … ate it."
Derek raised an eyebrow at this but elected not to press the issue. "So. Addie." He seemed to gather his thoughts as he prepared a hand-made egg salad. Derek always ate healthily, and Derek always made his own food. It was his thing. "What are we going to do from here? I mean, custody is tricky. We're both surgeons. We're here all the time. Everyone we know is here all the time. And look at Dr. Bailey. Her marriage is deteriorating because of childcare."
"Mercifully, we won't have that problem at least." She smiled wryly at him, and he returned the gesture. "I don't know Derek. What is, I mean, is Meredith going to help? I wouldn't blame her if she didn't, but..." Addison always felt strange when referring to his intern in a civil manner. It didn't feel natural.
"Of course she is," he responded swiftly, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. "She grew up with a mother for a surgeon and apparently it wasn't much fun for her. She has sympathy. And... we're together. She should have a role in my son's life, right? So that's how it will be. She'll do what she can when she can."
Addison wasn't sure how she felt about allowing Meredith near her child. Part of her saw the other woman as just that. That part of her just knew Meredith would be a horrible influence on any young person around her. After all, she had wrecked the child's parents' marriage. What good could come from that woman being in his life? But the other half of Addison—the more rational, Ivy-educated side—reminded her that Meredith was not a bad person. She made mistakes, but hadn't Addison herself? She tried very hard to make nice with her after the prom incident, and Addison couldn't even bring herself to hate her, which shouldn't have been difficult.
Derek silently fiddled with the label on his water bottle, clearly lost in thought. But then, "Listen, Addie, if that's not what you want, I still think it may be in our child's best interest if he had both parents. As I said, we're surgeons, we work long hours. It's going to be difficult to raise a baby with that coupling the fact that we aren't together. Even if we didn't get along all the time, we could make an effort to get along in front of him."
She brought her eyes to his sharply. "I thought this chapter was done. We decided that we failed miserably and we're just going to be two people raising a child. Christ, Derek, why can't you accept that? It shouldn't be hard, considering how easily you gave me up—twice." The emphasis on the last word was a lethally cold ice. "And not only that, but I don't want to be with you." She didn't? Since when?
Derek looked taken aback. His chin went slightly slack as some heads turned in their direction, including Mark's. Addison took no notice, however.
"You tell me you love Meredith, that you want her to be a part of our son's life, but then you say things like this? You don't even deserve her." She stood from her chair, though for no real reason other than the energy coursing through her body wouldn't allow her to sit still for long. "You prattle on and on about what you think and about you want or what you believe is best. You always get your way, Derek Shepherd, with your stupid hair and your stupid little smile and your stupid 'oh-look-I'm-a-charming-brain-surgeon' routine. But not this time. You can't always have your way, it's not going to happen. You—"
She stopped suddenly as a hand on her shoulder wheeled her around to face its owner. "Addie, stop," said Mark quietly. "Why don't you come sit over here, and I'll give you the last of the hot chocolate, okay?"
"I don't have to listen to you, your just the dirty mistress!" She shouted, her lid finally blowing. The situation was simply too, too much for her to handle.
But Mark took her by the hand and led her out of the cafeteria away from the many pairs of pricked ears, alert at the first sign of any kind of gossip. She didn't notice Derek's stunned face as he sat rooted to the spot in his seat, clearly bewildered and unknowing of what he should do. All she could see was red.
"Can you believe him?" she said in a highly aggravated tone as soon as they were out the doors. "He just takes, and takes, and takes. What has he ever done for me?"
"I know, Addie, but—"
She wasn't stopping, though: "Nothing! Not a damn thing. He just—he cheats, and he lies. And he makes false promises. He's horrible. He's a horrible person. I can't believe I'm having a baby with such a horrible person!" She was nearing hysterical now.
"Addison, stop it, now," he said firmly, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You can't keep your stress levels this high, it's not healthy, and you know it."
Her eyes flashed as she broke away from him. "I'll do what I damn well please, Mark Sloan. You have no control over—oh!" She bent over double as a searing pain tore through her body. She had been having them now and then, but had written them off as normal pregnancy pains. This did not feel normal.
"Addie!" He caught her as her knees began to buckle under her weight.
"Mark," she whispered, allowing him to lower her slowly to the floor and beyond thankful he was there, "I think I'm having contractions."
A/N: Yes, contractions. Yes, only twenty-nine weeks. So that's not good, in case you didn't know. Short chapter, but kind of major goings-on.
And, last chapter, the one I said I really liked? I only got two reviews for it. So don't forget to do that this time. :-)