A/N: Well, hi there. Happy Saturday to some fantastic readers. You have been so generous sharing your thoughts and ideas and comments, and I appreciate it a whole heck of a lot. I know it's a little late for Fluffy Friday, but how about ... Snuggly Saturday? If you were not in the mood for an INSANELY long, incredibly self-indulgent, damn-but-I-love-writing-the-McFamily sort of chapter, then you know who to blame. (No, not me. Patsy. See, she's a rockstar reviewer without an account, so I can't PM her. All I can do is write updates for her to remind her that she's awesome!) To all of you who read, review, and keep this site going, thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Without further rambling, I present McMoving Day.

.. Lock and Key ..

It's human nature to stand back. We might walk right up to the edge of that cliff, but then we hesitate. We see how high up we are, and we stop. We back away from the edge. A psychologist would say that fear is adaptive. It's there to protect us from danger.

"Zola, sweetie, not so close to the edge," Derek calls from his position at the front door directing the movers. Zola, who has been creeping up to her tiptoes on the front porch, pauses.

If the adaptation works, we manage to grow up without plunging off a cliff or dropping into the abyss. We grow up safely. And then we have children.

"No, Bailey, come back here." Meredith chases their surprisingly fast toddler down the sloping green lawn, snagging the back of his little striped shirt as he approaches the yawning mouth of the open truck. "Don't run, honey."

And we want to protect them.

"Can I play in the back? Mommy, can I?"

"Not yet, Zozo, not until we finish moving."

"But we're not even moving," she pouts, pointing toward the truck. "They're moving."

"Daddy and I are helping them figure out where to put things," Meredith says patiently. "So we need to be out here. Look, honey, there's all this grass in the front where you and Bailey can play. But you need to stay here for now, where we can see you."

So we tell our children to stand back. Stay away from that cliff. Don't look down. And don't take that step. Even when you want to, that's what we say. It's dangerous. It's not safe.

"Okay? I know it's hard to wait, but – Bailey, no!" Meredith turns on her toes to chase him down again.

We want them to be safe. Protected. So we tell them to stand back.

"Daddy, it's boring here," Zola complains, back on the porch while Meredith tries to reason with a fussing Bailey, kicking at the floorboards with her little sneakered foot.

"Try to be patient, Zo. Remember how excited you were to move in to the new house? And remember when we talked about how it would take some time?"

"Yeah," she says grudgingly, "but I didn't think it would take all day."

"Let's hope it's not going to take all day, because we're paying our mover friends by the hour. Mer?" Derek raises his voice so she can hear him across the lawn. She jogs up with a protesting Bailey on her hip.

"Want to trade?" She casts an envious look at the mostly quiet Zola and swipes a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead. It's hot in the sun, where Bailey insists on playing – and occasionally making a run for it. And the smell of freshly-cut grass, so intoxicating when they first visited the house, is starting to make her feel a little nauseated.

How did they get here? Moving day dawned exciting and new that morning, Zola twirling with joy in the hotel room, having helped to pack her things with a combination of orderly precision and glee. She claimed she couldn't wait to get back to the new house. The last few days in total, come to think of it, the kids have been so cooperative that perhaps she should have anticipated their current restlessness. Yesterday, Derek worked with his new team and Meredith and the children explored the city, taking advantage of their waning hours of proximity. The day before, they all accompanied Derek to his office in the city, where he closed out some of the work he had been doing there while Bailey divided his time between coloring quietly and charming assistants. They met the fellow who'd taken over for the woman who'd already faded into obscurity, and Zola immediately adored him – equal parts cerebral and cheerful, Patrick quickly claimed Zola a math genius and spent much of the afternoon helping her solve increasingly difficult puzzles while Derek jokes about wasting their grant.

But now they're waiting to get into the house.

And waiting.

And … waiting.

"Why don't you take the kids somewhere," Derek suggests. "I know Zo's getting stir-crazy and …" He glances at Bailey, apparently not finding the words to describe him.

"Take them where?" Meredith sets Bailey down, taking one pudgy little hand in hers. He promptly yanks it away and clambers up the steps toward his sister.

"Is Chicago too far?" Derek jokes.

Meredith can't help smiling. "They do have some energy to run off."

"I know." Derek glances inside the house, calling out to the movers. "Can you put that one upstairs?" He turns back to Meredith. "I somehow didn't think this would take that long. Shouldn't semi-furnished mean …"

"… semi furnished?" Meredith shakes her head. "You'd think."

"Mommy," Bailey pats her leg with increasing desperation. "Help."

She exchanges a glance with Derek. "Help with what, sweetie?"

"Play with me," he begs.

"No, me!" Zola's voice inches up to a rare whine. "I've been waiting all day."

"Okay, you know what? We're going to the backyard." Meredith holds out a hand to her daughter. "Come on, Zozo. Let's go have some fun in the backyard."

"What's in the backyard?" Zola asks suspiciously.

"We're in the backyard," Meredith says smoothly, neatly sidestepping the issue of the swingset that's not due to arrive for a few more days. "And we're a lot of fun. Let's go."

Derek throws her a grateful look as she leads both children down the porch steps, then does a double take when he sees what the movers are bringing out of the truck.

"Wait – guys – "

…

"Why does moving take so long?" Zola grumps as they cross the jewel-green grass. The vast front lawn that seemed so appealing on their visit suddenly seems enormous, maybe because Bailey is dead weight hanging from Meredith's other hand.

"Because there are a lot of things to move," she explains. "Remember, all the things we brought with us, and the boxes Amy sent from Seattle, and the things we ordered – like your bed," she reminds Zola, who seems unable to keep a scowl on her face when she thinks about the bed she picked out herself. "We have to move all those things inside the house and then … we can move us inside."

"Yeah," Zola stops, squatting in the grass, to pick up a dandelion. "But it's taking so long."

"It feels that way because we're waiting. That's why we're going to do something fun," Meredith reminds her. "It makes things so faster. Bailey … hold Mommy's hand, please."

The walk to the backyard feels like it's taking forever. Maybe because Zola has stopped again to explore a tree whose branches seem to have built for climbing. She drops her mother's hand and props both her little ones on her hips, surveying the tree.

"Me too," Bailey suggests, as Zola braces both hands on a low hanging branch, then kicks off.

"Zo…"

"Look what I can do." She kicks again, building momentum, and then she's hoisted herself up on the branch.

"Zola, be careful."

"I am!" She wriggles until she's seated in a notch. "Hey, Bailey … come up here with me."

"No," Meredith says quickly, "he's too little, sweetie. Come down now so we can go to the backyard."

Zola sighs as if Meredith has just asked her to finish the moving job herself, but she pushes off from the tree and drops lightly to her feet. "Climbing is fun. And branches are kind of like bars."

"Bars?"

"Bars. Like at gymnastics."

"Oh, honey, don't start that again, please." Meredith rests a hand on her daughter's small shoulder, urging her ahead toward the backyard. "At least not until we've moved in."

"You never let me do anything fun," Zola complains, and Meredith lets this rather outrageous accusation blow right past her; Zola's tired, and cranky, and the sun is beating down on them, and anyway the backyard is totally empty, which means they'll be able to run and jump and not worry about –

"Mommy, look!" Zola tears off along the grass, and Meredith finds herself staring at bright yellow rings set up along thick cords high above the grass.

"Honey, wait…"

"It's a trapeze!" Zola is bouncing on her tiptoes, her bad mood forgotten. "Like in the circus!"

Meredith blinks a few times, trying to make sure she's seeing correctly. True, they were so certain it was the right house for them that their first trip through and around was quick. But sure they would have noticed this. There are steps set into thick tree trunks on both sides – not steps, more like ladder rungs. There's some wear and tear, Meredith notices, so they can't be new. But how did we miss this?

"Mommy, can I try it? Please." Zola clasps her little hands together prayerfully. "I'll be super extra careful, I promise."

"I don't know, sweetie." Meredith surveys the equipment. "We don't know who put this here, or how old it is, or how sturdy."

"The people who used to live here," Zola suggests. "Maybe they were in the circus!"

Meredith swallows the automatic joke about congress that threatens to rise to her lips. But didn't the realtor say the owners were affiliated with the NIH? Aren't most people in this neighborhood? She considers the mystery, reminding herself that it doesn't really matter – whoever put the trapeze here, it's here now.

And Zola is staring at the bright yellow rings like she's never seen anything so fantastic in her life.

"Please, Mommy…"

"Please," Bailey echoes, pronouncing it much like his favorite vegetable.

Zola's eyes are huge and pleading in her little face. Spending this transition time with her children has been magical in some ways, sobering in others – and sometimes surprising. One surprise is how much more she has to say no when she's the primary adult present all day. Yes just seemed more frequent when she was collecting the children at the end of a long work day, all of them exhausted and fumbling for food and sleep.

Meredith kneels down in the grass – it's so green it must have been watered recently, but somehow it feels neither cold nor damp. "Zozo," she says gently, "this isn't a playground. We need to figure out what this is before you can use it."

Bailey tries to sit on her lap, frustrated with her position, so she eases back cross-legged and lets him climb into the basket of her legs.

"But I know what it is. It's a trapeze. It's in my book."

Ah. "Which book?"

"The circus one. From the library."

Meredith tries to remember. She took both children with her to the rather impressive local branch of the city's library, where Zola climbed up and down the book-selection ladder and Bailey made a friend in the picture-book area – at least until he clocked him with a board book. She remembers leaving hastily after that, but she did check out a few books for Zola. She's pretty sure she reviewed them first, and she doesn't remember a circus book.

"It's about how to fly."

"People can't fly," she says gently.

"They can, Mommy, if they're acrobats and they have a trapeze. I'll show you." Zola's face brightens, then she sighs. "I'll show you when my books are all unpacked."

Bailey, who missed his nap today, is suddenly feeling very heavy on her lap. She can't see his face from her angle.

"Zo," she whispers, gesturing her daughter closer. "Is your brother asleep?"

Zola nods solemnly. "Now you're stuck, Mommy. You're his bed."

Meredith smiles. "You used to fall asleep on me like this. We'd sit outside together and watch Daddy work on the house and I'd hear you chatter, chatter, chatter until …" She mimes closing her eyes and dropping into slumber.

Zola giggles. "Really?"

"Really."

Zola looks from her sleeping brother to her mother and back again. "Do I have to nap too?"

Meredith shakes her head. "You can explore, Zo, just stay where I can see you. And stay off the trapeze," she adds, hoping the warning is unnecessary.

She doesn't look at her watch – time doesn't seem important right now; she just sits in the warm patch of sunlight and listens to Bailey's steady breathing against her and follows Zola with her eyes. Her daughter spends the first few minutes running off her energy around the large, sloping yard, staying within the bounds Meredith prescribed. She darts back and forth several times with interesting things to show her mother: a pale green curling leaf with reddish veins, a twig shaped like a tuning fork, a particularly pretty stalk of Queen Anne's Lace.

"Mommy," she says at one point, clearly taking effort to keep her voice down while her brother naps, "there's stuff over there that's like … growing. I think."

"What do you mean?"

"Like a garden. Can we have a garden?"

"Definitely. We'll investigate it more once we're-"

"Moved in," Zola finishes the sentence for her glumly.

Meredith reaches for her daughter's hand. "Moving is one day, and then we get to be in a house all together. No more hotel room where we bump into each other because there's no room." She uses their joined hands to bump her daughter gently in illustration and Zola can't seem to help smiling.

"And then after we've moved in I can swing on the trapeze?"

Meredith pictures Derek's face when he sees the trapeze and hears his daughter's request. "We'll see, sweetie."

Zola looks like she's about to protest. "Hey." Meredith gestures towards the far end of the yard. "I think I see something green there – peeking up. Maybe the garden's already started."

"Really?" Zola follows her mother's gaze. "Let me go check!"

Meredith's not sure what she's going to do when her children become less distractible … but at least she probably has a little time before she has to find out. She smooth's Bailey's soft hair; he's breathing deeply and loudly, the rhythm of it making her tired along with his warm little body.

"Daddy!"

Meredith looks up at Zola's voice, twisting around to see Derek approaching from the front of the house. Zola runs to him and he lifts her over his head, then settles her in his arms.

"Are you done moving?" She asks eagerly.

"We are done moving." Derek looks at the sleeping child in Meredith's lap and she feels him stir in her arms.

Zola cheers. "So we can go see? Inside the house?"

"We can go see."

"Daddy." Zola points. "Did you see the trapeze?"

Meredith doesn't have to wait for his response; she can tell by his expression that he has. He exchanges a glance with Meredith that needs no words; apparently he doesn't remember it either.

"I do see the trapeze," he says carefully.

"I want to try it but Mommy said we don't know if it's strong or for kids," Zola says honestly, her tone reluctant.

Derek shoots Meredith a grateful look.

"It looks – high, and we don't know who put it there," Derek says.

"Circus people, Daddy! I read all about it and I know how to climb!" She pushes on his chest. "Put me down and I'll show you."

"No, not right now." He cups her little chin, tilting her face to his. "No trapeze, Zo, not without us, you got it?"

"With you, then?"

"We'll see."

"That just means no," Zola pouts.

"My poor girl." Derek brushes his thumb on her cheek. "Stuck with a neurosurgeon for a dad who's seen too many head injuries."

"I'll be careful," she wheedles. "Super, extra careful."

"Not today," Derek says firmly. "Today is moving day. Not trapeze day."

"Can tomorrow be trapeze day?"

"Zola," Meredith intercedes quietly from the grass.

Derek just takes one of her little hands in his. "Let's also make today wash our hands day. I see you've been digging."

"There's a garden," she tells him, reluctantly tearing her gaze from the trapeze. "Kind of. And we can plant more things, right?"

"Right." He sets her on her feet. "This guy took a nap, huh?"

"With very little warning." Meredith smiles. "I'm not sure I can get up," she admits.

Derek crouches down to lift Bailey, who whimpers and rubs his eyes with both small fists, not very happy with his transition from sleep. Derek soothes him, patting his back and pacing with him as Bailey slowly calms.

Bailey is awake … but Meredith has discovered her legs are very firmly asleep. She gives up trying to stand and flops back into the grass.

"Mommy, what are you doing?"

"Waiting for my legs to wake up so I can stand." Meredith smiles at Zola.

"I'll help you," Zola says confidently, taking one of her mother's hands in both of hers and tugging forcefully –

Which results in Meredith spinning about forty degrees to the right and Zola losing her balance and tumbling on top of her.

"You two okay down there?" Derek glances over.

"Oh, we're great." Meredith skims her hands across Zola's ribcage to move her and her daughter shrieks with laughter.

"You're tickling me!"

"You're squashing me," Meredith counters, tickling her again.

"No, I was trying to help, but you're too heavy," Zola says.

"Excuse me?" With some effort, Meredith lifts Zola off of her and pretends to glare.

"You are," Zola giggles. "See?" She pulls herself to her knees and starts tugging at Meredith's hands again, to no avail.

Zola's laughs are bordering on hysteria.

Derek smiles down at the two of them. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You can help us up, for starters," Meredith suggests.

So he does.

…

Actually entering the moved-in house – actually walking through the doors of the space they're going to call home, for however long they're here, has to wait.

For a few things.

First, for Meredith to gain enough sensation in her legs to stand. Then, for Zola to recover sufficiently from her fits of laughter to walk straight. And finally for Bailey to wriggle in his father's arms, demanding to be put down, down, so he can walk into the house all by himself.

And then they're ready. Together, the four of them traipse through the large backyard, along the path, through the fence, down the side of the house, to the front lawn.

The movers are gone. There's no sign of them other than a faint tire track in the driveway.

It's theirs now, and they retrace the steps they took the day they decided on the house, up the flagstone path, to the front door.

Then they pause for a moment of silence, Meredith and Derek exchanging a glance that speaks to the moment's significance, to their shared promise to use their time together in DC to strengthen their family, to the importance of finding a home that can nurture all four of them during this time of rebirth.

The moment of silence continues

… into moments.

"Are you gonna open the door?" Zola asks, a quizzical expression on her little face.

"Mommy has the key," Derek says.

"Daddy has the key," Meredith says at the same time.

They both look at each other.

"I thought you had it."

"I thought you had it."

"I wasn't even in the house!"

"I had the door open for the movers!"

They both pause.

"Is it definitely locked?"

Derek rattled the knob a few times. "It's definitely locked."

They look at each other for a moment.

"Are we stuck?" Zola asks anxiously.

"We'll find a way in, don't worry." Derek gives Zola a confident smile, saving his concern for high over her head as he and Meredith exchange now what looks.

"But we need a key," Zola says. "Now we have to sleep in the backyard." Her mournful expression changes to one of excitement. "Can we sleep in the backyard? That would be cool!"

"Slow down, Zozo, let's give it a minute before we resort to sleeping rough, okay?" Derek tugs lightly on one of her pigtails. "Here, you and Bailey hang out for a bit while Mommy and I figure this out." He directs both children to the spot on the porch with the abandoned basket of blocks.

Zola takes her brother's hand. "Come on, Bailey, we gotta build a new house 'cause we're locked out of this one," Meredith hears her tell him as they settle down to play.

With the children occupied, Derek and Meredith turn to each other.

"Now what?"

"I'll text Eternity," Meredith suggests, sparing only a moment for how bizarre that sounds. "But I don't know how far away she is."

Derek mutters something that Meredith can't quite make out, but she can imagine, and all of a sudden she's laughing, and then he's laughing too.

"The door was open all day," she manages as they laugh, "and now we're locked out!"

"It's my fault," Derek says, sounding serious now.

"It's not your fault." Meredith wraps her arms around his waist.

"This isn't a very auspicious way to start living in the new house, is it?"

Now he sounds anxious.

"Derek." Meredith tightens her arms and waits for his to come around her. "That's not how this works. The house is great. It's a great house. And great houses have great locks."

"And great keys."

"Right. Great houses have great keys. It's just that we don't have our great key."

"So we're stuck on the great porch."

She starts laughing again. "Zola's excited about sleeping outside."

"It's roomier than the hotel," he concedes, lips quirking into half a smile, and she takes a moment to be grateful that even if they do end up sleeping in the yard, there's no one she'd rather have by her side listening to her outdoor snores.

She glances toward the children and sees the blocks abandoned. She can hear their voices; it's clear they've gone further down the partly-wraparound porch.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Zola suddenly reappears. "Look what I found!"

She grabs one of each of their hands, Bailey hopping up and down enthusiastically next to her, and brings them around the side of the porch, down the steps, onto the grass.

"Look!" Zola exclaims, pointing.

They follow her gaze to a small, square, partially open –

"Window!" Bailey beams proudly as he pronounces the very adult word.

Meredith draws a breath. The window is a small one, leaded, and it's at least six feet off the ground. But if someone could get inside it, they could open the locked front door and let everyone into the house.

Derek wrestles with the window for a moment. "It won't open any further," he says. "Good job finding it, Zo, but I don't think that's our way in. Not even Mommy can fit through there."

"But I can," Zola says, grinning. "It's little and so am I. See?"

She studies the open window and holds her small hands out in an approximation of the width.

"No," Derek says immediately. "It's so nice that you want to help, sweetie, but –"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not safe."

"Why isn't it?"

"Zozo," Meredith says patiently, "the window is high up and we don't even know what's inside it."

"Our house is inside it," Zola says indignantly.

Their son claps with delight as Meredith climbs onto Derek's back. "Horsey!" Bailey calls with glee.

Meredith looks in through the window. "It's a room," she says.

"A little more detail, Mer?"

"Right. It's carpeted, it's …" She peers further. "It's the family room, and there's the couch and the dollhouse and … nothing sharp," she says.

She climbs down from Derek's back.

"My turn!" Bailey shouts.

"Hang on, buddy." Derek frowns at the window and then moves closer to his wife, lowering his voice. "Meredith …"

"It's carpeted," she repeats.

"Yeah, but when – if – we put her in there, then what? She's all alone in that big house she doesn't know her way around, and – "

" – and she finds her way down to the front door and lets us in. She's smart," Meredith says.

"I know she's smart, but she's not a homing pigeon."

"We don't have to do this." Meredith rests a hand on his chest. "We can … go drive somewhere and wait for Eternity to text back."

"Go inside," Bailey whimpers suddenly. "Go home, Mama."

"We're trying, sweetie." Meredith lifts him to her hip, jogging him a bit to soothe him.

"I can do it," Zola says. "Daddy, I can. I'm a good climber. I climbed the tree over there."

She points, and Derek raises an eyebrow at Meredith.

"She's fast. And I was watching her."

"I know, but – "

"Please," Zola says, and then speaks the magic words, "I need the bathroom."

"Okay." Derek looks like he's bracing himself. He rolls up his sleeves, looks from one member of his family to the next. "Zozo, if we do this, then you're going to need to get down to the front door and let us in."

"I know. I can do it."

"How are you going to do it?"

"Go out of the family room … and into the hall … and down the stairs … and to the front door," she recites patiently.

Bailey claps happily, his sulk forgotten, as Derek lifts Zola into his arms. Meredith watches, holding Bailey close, hardly daring to breathe, as Derek very carefully slides Zola's little body through the gap in the window, first her feet in their small pink sneakers, then her bare legs, her denim shorts, rainbow striped shirt – he pauses, cradling her head.

"Zozo, are you sure–"

"I'm sure, Daddy," Zola says impatiently. "Let go."

He does.

For a moment, everything is quiet.

Then Zola pokes her grinning face through the window. "I'm in! Daddy, my dollhouse looks perfect."

Meredith smiles with relief. "Great job, sweetie. Go down to the front door now," she calls.

Zola nods and disappears. They hear footsteps … and then nothing.

"Mer." Derek moves closer. "I don't like this."

"Let's go to the door," she suggests, trying not to feel nervous. She carries Bailey with her as they climb up to the porch and follow it to the front of the house.

It's still quiet.

"I shouldn't have let go of her."

"Derek, she's fine, you saw her!"

"Then where is she?" He rests a hand on the front door, shaking his head.

"Derek – "

The sound of pounding feet interrupts here. "I'm here!" Zola yells from behind the front door, and then her adorable face is filling up the glass slats next to the door, and she's waving enthusiastically.

Meredith exhales hard and waves back. "Open the door, Zozo."

Her face disappears and they hear some scratching of metal.

"Lefty-loosey," Derek calls.

"I know!"

Click.

Scratch.

Click.

Derek holds the screen and then suddenly the big wooden front door is yawning open to reveal a beaming Zola standing on a red and white welcome mat.

"I did it!"

"You sure did." Derek holds the door open for Meredith and Bailey, then leans down to scoop Zola up, hugging her tightly. "You were amazing. Did you hurt yourself?" He slides a hand down her bare legs. "No scratches?"

"No, I'm good." Zola wraps her arms around his neck. "Didn't you think I could do it?"

"We did," Meredith assures her.

"You were quiet for a minute there," Derek says hesitantly.

"I was peeing," Zola says bluntly. "I told you I had to use the bathroom."

Meredith laughs into Bailey's blond hair.

"There's soap in my bathroom that smells just like lemonade!" Zola beams, holding out a little hand for Meredith to sniff.

"That's a nice touch." Meredith glances at Derek. "Eternity?"

"Seems about right." Derek pokes Zola in the ribs. "You already claimed a bathroom?"

"No, it was already mine," Zola says, sounding puzzled, "there's a real big Z right on the wall. A purple one!"

"Don't look at me," Meredith says.

"It definitely wasn't me."

"Come on," Zola says, "let's go upstairs, and I'll show you." She pauses. "Daddy – I did a good job going in the window, right?"

"You did a great job."

"So ... does that mean I can try the trapeze tomorrow?"

Derek glances at Meredith. She gives him an encouraging look, leaving the decision to him.

There's a long moment of silence.

"You have to wear your bike helmet," Derek says finally.

Zola's eyes widen with excitement. "I will."

"And you have to let Mommy and Daddy try it out first."

"I will!"

"And you have to be careful."

"I will, I promise!"

"Okay, then." Derek draws a deep breath and then releases it. "Let's see how you feel about it tomorrow."

"Okay," Zola says agreeably. "But I already know I'm going to feel good tomorrow."

Somehow … Meredith has the feeling they all will.

Maybe fear is adaptive. Maybe it was meant to protect us. But adaptation also means change. It means adjusting to somewhere new … even when it's scary. And the things is, sometimes you do need to get right up to that edge. Because when you step over, when you finally let go - that's when you can really fly.

To be continued! We still have to explore the house, find Zola her school, sort out Meredith's career changes, and let's not forget the trapeze. Did you like McMoving Day? Review and let me know! xoxo 'til next time.