Chapter 20. Piece by Piece

"What?" Addison asks curiously when Mark opens his mouth to say something, then seems to think better of it and curls his lips back together. His hands go still against the lapels of the A-line coat he has helped her shrug into.

"Nothing. I was going to try to button your coat, but it appears that, well…"

"Oh," Addison bobs her head in acknowledgement. "Your chivalry is appreciated, but yeah, it doesn't button anymore. Not with this belly."

"So, you'll text or call at any point if -"

"I will. Promise. And I'll only be two blocks away. Derek will probably just want an appetizer or something since it's too early for dinner, but I will definitely be having Lunch Part Two."

"Lunch Part Two?"

Addison grins. "Or Dinner Part One. I'm hungry all the time now."

"Okay. Well, I'll see you back here for either Dinner Part One or Dinner Part Two then. Is there…" he offers a mild shrug. "Is there anything I can do around here while you're out?"

"The Australian Open is going on, isn't it? Why don't you watch that? Have a beer and relax. Enjoy the silence. There's no to-do list for you at the moment."

"I was kind of hoping for a list, actually. I…I want to keep busy," Mark admits quietly.

Addison nods her understanding. He has been supportive of her meeting Derek for some type of meal today, but has not been successful at hiding his uneasiness. "Okay. Well, you can put Pickle's bookcase together and mount it to the wall," she suggests. "Why don't you start there? And if you still want more to do after that, I have the list in the plastic sleeve on my nightstand of baby things we still need, broken down by category…" she pointedly ignores the look of amusement Mark gets regarding the fact that she has gone to extra lengths to protect this document, in addition to how it's been organized. "Just stick to the things in green. Anything written in green pen is an exact item I want, so you can't go wrong there, provided you know how to read. Shopping will kill some time for you. And if you decide to be very, very reckless and deviate from the list -"

"I'll be sure to hang on to the receipts."

-

"Hey," Derek says, rising from the bench outside the restaurant when Addison approaches him. His eyes dart to her stomach, and it seems as though he cannot help himself when he observes, "Wow. You look so…pregnant."

"Well, I am in fact pregnant," Addison offers a tight smile, knowing that Derek was just stating the obvious and didn't mean any offense.

There is no hiding it now. In addition to Addison's ever-growing stomach, her face is fuller, her hips are wider, she swears even her nose is a hairsbreadth broader, and the outline of her belly button is now creepily visible through certain tops ever since her "innie" became aggressively "outie" around week twenty-seven (she knows this is a common occurrence, but it really did freak her out the first time she saw it, and it didn't help that Mark classified this new development as weird-but-cool – he apologized quickly and later came home with some kind of body butter to help with her itching skin in order to get back in her good graces).

"Are your mom and Nancy…?" Addison looks around, but does not see either Shepherd woman nearby. Derek had told her the three of them were planning to stay in a hotel tonight. Carolyn and Nancy will head back upstate tomorrow and Derek will board an evening flight to Sea-Tac in two days' time after speaking at a spinal surgery conference at Mount Sinai. Although Addison is very, very nervous about engaging with her (former?) mother-in-law and (former?) sister-in-law, Mark and Derek separately assured her the women wouldn't have elected to come into the city if that hadn't wanted to see her.

"Already inside," Derek answers. "I had to step out to take a work call, and then I saw your text saying you were close, so I figured I would wait for you."

"Taking a work call while on vacation?" She raises an eyebrow, knowing she's pushing it a little bit.

"About the thing I'm speaking at on Monday. Again with the nagging," Derek manages a teasing grin, and then gestures for her to enter the restaurant first.

-

Two hours later, Derek and Addison are sitting on a bench not far from Tavern on the Green. After a nice, mostly non-awkward appetizers-and-second-lunch-for-Addison outing with Carolyn and Nancy, Derek had suggested that the two of them take a walk through Central Park to catch up more properly while the Shepherd women did some shopping (Addison agreed to Derek's idea, but due to how winded she tends to get lately, suggested they walk to a bench, where they would sit for the remainder of the proposed walk).

"This is for you, by the way," Addison hands Derek a key after they've talked a bit more about some unbelievable Seattle Grace cases, Derek's conference, their respective Christmases, and the offer Addison recently accepted on the house in the Hamptons.

Derek stares at the key questioningly. "What is it for?"

"The brownstone. I…I wasn't sure if you still have a key. It's just in case you want to grab anything while you're here. I'd be happy to ship stuff out to you too though. I haven't had the agent list it yet. I will eventually, just…" she points to her stomach. "There's just a few other things going on at the moment. And Derek, if you wanted to split the final offer, we still can –"

"Addison." He shakes his head.

"Okay," she responds evenly. "Well, again, feel free to get whatever you want, and I'll give you advance notice when the time comes to do the staging so you don't come home from work to find more shipping boxes than can possibly fit in your trailer. Oh, but if you trek into the basement, just leave Mark's bike alone. He won't shut up about getting it back."

Derek scoffs at this. "You mean my bike? Addison, that's not his bike in the basement. It's mine. Maybe he borrowed it one time or we had some sort of shared custody arrangement, but it's not his. He took my wife. He doesn't get the bike, too."

"I'm glad you feel the two are comparable. You guys were always so weird together. In a cute way though."

"Well, it's arguably weirder now…" he pats her hand, and startles when his fingertips brush against the cold metal of the promise ring Mark gave her for Christmas. Addison watches him stare at it. Derek doesn't pose a direct query, so she doesn't offer any information.

"He really loves you, doesn't he?" Derek asks instead after a few moments of silence whip through the cool air. His voice is quiet, contemplative. "Mark's serious. It's not just a game or playing house."

"Yes," she answers.

"That's what my mom said too, but I just…" he shakes his head. "And you love him, too?"

Addison nods, exhaling slowly. She's practiced this in her head many, many times in the event an opportunity might present itself, but it's still nerve-wracking and difficult to express. "I do. Derek, I…I love him in the way that I think you love Meredith. It's just more, somehow. I didn't plan for it to happen – not that night, nor anything that happened after. I didn't even think I could feel this way about someone. And just so you know, I didn't feel anything for Mark while we were married. I loved you, Derek. I did. I was in love with you. I loved you every second, every minute of our marriage. We were happy for a very long time, and it wasn't the kind of happiness that could be faked. And I will always care for you and always love you. It's just…"

"It's different with Mark. It's more," Derek repeats.

"Yes. Like how it's different and more with Meredith. Right?" She asks, certain of the answer, and Derek finally nods. "Can I ask…what she's like?"

His eyebrows furrow as he considers this request. "You want to know?"

"I do. I just know she's a good doctor. And that she can quote both Steinem and Swift."

Derek smirks. "Voices of a generation, the both of them. Indeed she can."

"But I'd like to know more, if you're willing to share. I'm just curious, that's all."

"Okay then," Derek agrees, lips parting in reflection as he considers what to share. And when he does speak, Addison watches his expression transform, and if she didn't know it before, she knows now, that they never had what he had with Meredith, and what she has, against all odds, with Mark. "Meredith would tell you that she's dark and twisty. She didn't have the best childhood, so sometimes she is dark and twisty, but she's more than that. She's strong. Loving. Feisty. Smart. She sees the world in shades of gray…pun not intended. She's sensitive. She's a good friend – arguably too good of a friend, because she's essentially turned her mother's house into a homeless shelter for surgical interns."

Addison smiles when Derek winds down. "She sounds really great. I'm…I'm very happy for you. I'm sure that's a weird thing to say, but I am."

"She is great," he agrees. "Thank you for asking about her. But being apart from her the past few days…this is the best I've slept in a while. There's a snoring issue we're trying to address."

"Maybe try ear plugs?"

"For her? How would that help?"

"For you," Addison rolls her eyes.

"Oh, yeah. That makes more sense."

"Derek, look. I know I have no right to ask this, but would you be willing to just…consider talking to Mark? He's at the apartment right now. He misses you so, so much. And he's sorry. I started it; I know you don't want to hear that, but I did. It wasn't like he seduced me."

"Sometimes it hurts more," Derek admits, rubbing absently at his temples. "The betrayal I felt when I found you with him…sometimes it hurts more that I found him with you. And Addison, what would I…what would I even say to him?"

"Well, 'hello' to start with. And then you'd just listen to him say that he's sorry, I think. Mark would probably even let you get a punch in, but I'd prefer you don't do that."

Derek smirks at this. "Do you think he'd suture his own face if I hit him hard enough that stitches were needed?"

"I don't think. I know. I'd like to not test the theory out though."

"Fair enough."

-

"How did it go?" Mark asks. He had to force himself not to run down the hallway when he heard Addison unlock the front door. It is hard to read the look on her face when they make eye contact. There is perhaps a frantic quality to her expression, he decides.

"It went well. Really well. But now isn't the time to talk about it – Mark, if you want to talk with Derek, he's at 'the bar,'" Addison throws finger quotes around the words, the gesture as quick as the words she is spitting out. "Derek said you'd know which place he's talking about. Seems like I was never cool enough to warrant an invite to this mystery spot. I told him I'd text if you were coming. Otherwise he'll finish his predictable scotch and head back to his hotel."

Mark blinks. "What should…what should I say to him?"

That was his worry, too, she reflects. "What do you want to say?"

"That I'm sorry. And that I never meant for this to happen…" he makes a funny, brisk motion with his hand towards Addison and her pregnant belly that she chooses not to be miffed about. "And that I'm sorry for hurting him."

"That's a good start."

"Okay, then I'll just –"

"But Mark," she cuts in. "I shouldn't be worried about this, right?"

"He's just a friend, Addison. A friend with enviably great hair, but just a friend. I coveted his wife. Not the reverse."

She is unsuccessful in trying not to laugh. "I meant more in the way of will I need to bail you both out of jail tonight due to a bar fight or something?"

"No, I promise. Hey," Mark presses a kiss to one of her eyebrows that is rumpled with concern. "Relax. Go check out the bookcase – it's done. And I left some other stuff in there for you and her."

-

Addison smiles when she spies the pale blush bookcase set up in the corner of Pickle's room. The books they've acquired nearly fill two shelves, and it looks as though Mark has attempted to organize the books by color, which is hysterical to her, but also a little sad because it's definitely an indicator he must have been trying really hard to keep himself busy so as to not worry obsessively about her visit with Derek.

An infant car seat, diaper pail, video baby monitor, collection of baby wraps and carriers, pacifier set, and a Rebecca Minkoff diaper bag (all green pen items – smart man) are piled by the wingback rocking chair they purchased last week. It becomes clear to Addison that color-blocking children's books did not pass enough time, so Mark must have spent the remainder of his afternoon scrambling around Nordstrom and Pottery Barn Kids.

And then she smiles wider when she spots two non-green-pen items nestled in the rocking chair, each waiting for an owner to swoop them up: a stuffed elephant and a floral-patterned maternity robe.

-

Mark nods to the bartender as he drops into an unoccupied seat. "Double Scotch, single malt. Actually…" he notices two empty tumblers to his left that haven't been cleared away from Derek yet. He should probably catch up. "Two, please."

Derek clears his throat, nods in the direction of the nearest television set featuring an NBA game. "The Knicks are already losing."

"Of course they are. Some things never change."

"And some do."

Mark offers a strained smile when two glasses are set in front of him. He takes a generous sip of one, and then decides to push the other towards Derek. He takes a slow breath and forces himself to look at his best friend (who appears open to listening, but needs to be staring at the TV screen for this).

"I'm sorry, Derek. I'm just…sorry. But just so you know, Addison has point blank refused to post bail if we get arrested for fighting. Not that I'll swing. If you need to hit me or something though, I get that."

"I'm tempted," Derek murmurs, downing the rest of his glass and reaching for the one Mark nudged in his direction. "But I suspect Mom and Nancy wouldn't bail us out either. I need to ask though…I have some…questions."

"Ask anything."

Derek meets his eyes. "The time I caught you…that was the first time? Like, there wasn't anything going on before that?"

"That's the truth."

"Did she love you while we were married?"

"No," Mark responds. "At best, she just tolerated me."

"Did you love her though?" Derek asks. The grimace that ghosts across his face makes it evident to Mark how much it is physically paining him to ask these questions to the man he had considered to be like family.

"Yes," Mark says, refusing to look away even though that is all he wants to do. "Not for your entire marriage," he adds quickly. "In the last two years or so, I started to fall in love with her. We were spending more time together; you weren't around as much. I felt something just…shift in me. But I didn't say anything and I definitely wouldn't have done anything about it. But then last June she kissed me and…" he trails off, uncomfortable.

Derek nods, looking back to the game. "She said she started it."

"Yeah."

"But you didn't stop it. Neither of you did."

"No," he admits. "But I'm incredibly sorry for the hurt and pain this has caused you, as my best friend and brother – and her. I'll always be sorry for that."

"Okay," Derek says softly.

"Okay," Mark repeats, unsure what to say next. He does get the sense this conversation is not over, and there is more to be said, but that this conversation is over for now.

"Oh, I forgot…" Derek reaches into his coat pocket after he's finished his third drink and Mark has finished his second. He hands over a drawstring pouch. "I meant to give this to Addie. It's, um, for the baby. You can open it though."

Mark offers a shy smile, dipping his hand into the pouch and pulling out a pair of Seattle Seahawks baby booties.

"Thank you, Derek," he says, swallowing the rush of emotion he feels crowd in his throat. "Addison will love them. And I – I really like them too. The Seahawks are in the same conference as the Giants though. You knew I'd hate that. That was at least part of the appeal, right?"

Derek smirks. "Just a little. Hey, when she's born, would you…let me know? And send a picture or something? It's kind of hard to actively dislike and resent a baby, so I'm trying here."

"Yeah, absolutely. I will."

"And if you hurt Addison, or the kid…" Derek looks at him properly, and it's the first time tonight that Mark has seen anything that could be identified as anger pass over his features. "I'll kill you."

"I know. Savvy will too, for the record. Just in case you want to coordinate."

"Oh, okay then," Derek responds. "I'll just call to confirm in that case, since that's probably enough. Savvy will see it through."

-

Mark smiles when he steps into the bedroom to find a barely-awake Addison with a plush elephant snuggled in her arms. "I hope you realize that the elephant is for our daughter," he says while stripping off today's shirt and pants in favor of sweats as old as his med school diploma and a Rangers crewneck. He joins her under the comforter. "The robe was for you though."

"I know. And I love it. Thank you," she beams back, then squeezes the elephant tighter. "I just wanted some company while you were gone."

He frowns and scoots closer, instantly a bit concerned. "Were you having trouble sleeping?"

"Yes, but that's because of the Braxton Hicks and edema and my uterus trying to do some Baby and Johnny Castle-style moves with my ribcage," she offers a sheepish smile. "I'm okay, Mark. I was just kinda lonely. Silly, right? It's only been a few hours since I've seen you…but I missed you."

He slides his lips over hers. "I missed you too."

"I've gotten too used to this," Addison mumbles against his mouth.

"Used to what?"

"You," she pecks lightly at his bottom lip. "And not having to sleep alone."

"Stay used to it," he murmurs, scraping a hand through her hair. "Okay?"

Addison nods happily and tugs at the bottom of his shirt. Mark breaks their kiss to give her an intrigued glance. Her fingertips slide under the cotton material, dancing up his ribs to rub the contours of his chest and the sharp lines of his collarbone.

"Yeah?" Mark asks, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. He runs a palm along her hip, inquiring. Although they're still intimate, they definitely slowed down once Addison hit the third trimester. Twenty-eight weeks and beyond has come with a lot more exhaustion and new aches and pains, which has resulted in sex becoming less desirable for her. Mark does his best to be understanding of this (although longer showers are becoming more of a necessity), so when he touches his forehead to hers, he tries not to appear too eager.

"Mm-hmm. Just…" Addison squirms a little until she is able to grab hold of the stuffed elephant. She tosses it behind her. "No audience though."

-

"So how did it go with Derek?" she asks later that night, drowsy and resting happily in Mark's arms post-coital. "I meant to ask earlier, but just…jumping your bones was more of a priority to me, apparently."

"Certainly not complaining," Mark stamps a kiss to the back of her neck. "It went well with Derek, I think. I was able to apologize. And he listened. And I think…I think we might eventually get to the place where we can maybe be friends again."

"That's so great, Mark. I'm really happy for you two."

"Yeah, same here. He got something for the baby, by the way. Hang on and I'll grab it."

"Oh my gosh, they're so cute," Addison squeals when Mark climbs back into bed and hands her the booties. She fingers the blue and green material and the team logo for a few seconds before setting the booties on her night stand. "The Seahawks aren't AFC though, right?"

"Nope. So Pickle now has to represent two teams in the same conference. Doesn't matter that it's different divisions; you know how I feel about that. And Derek knows as well, which is in part why he picked them. Guess I can't blame him though for trying to get back at me," Mark grins into her shoulder as he wraps his arms back around her. "By the way, his hair is longer now."

You and that man's hair, Addison thinks. "Yes, it's very Russell Crowe."

"You used to have a thing for him. I remember that."

She giggles. "Still do. But more of a thing for you."

"And Derek seems happy," Mark continues. "He likes Seattle. And he likes Meredith. Loves her, actually."

"He does," she acknowledges. "Snoring and all. I'm sorry that this is how it happened – even though it's not actively on my mind anymore, I will always be sorry that I cheated and that this is how we got together. But…he wasn't happy with me…not at the end, at least. And even when he was happy, and when we were happy, he feels something with her that he didn't feel with me. And I am happy for him, that he has that. I am really am. And I'm happy that I have that. Does that…does make sense?"

"Honestly, that was a lot of pronouns to try to sort through, but yes, I get what you're saying. And I'm happy I get to be the guy who contributes to your happiness."

"Let's make each other happy again," she grins at him over her shoulder.

Mark starts to chuckle. "What's going on with you tonight?"

"Not sure. But that's not a no, right?"

"It's never a no with you, Addison," he murmurs, tugging at her hips with a sense of urgency until she climbs back on top of him.