A/N : This is by Lisa (McDreamy). I'm still counting down to 100. No, screw 70. We definitely will hit 70 in a very very short while. I feel like I'm updating 10 fics in a day. Hmm...
Well, this is all about the legs, baby. Or is it? -hehe-

Derek Shepherd's favorite color was blue. The same blue of the cocktail dress she had been wearing when he'd first seen her at the hospital meet and greet dinner before they were interns. That was the night they first made love, and he associated it with the passion.

He'd read the novel The Sun Also Rises countless times. She'd minored in American Lit at Columbia and worshipped Hemingway. Reading it had brought him closer to her.

His drink of choice was single malt scotch. His selection of this harsh liquid was not at all related to him enjoying the taste. No, he had grown accustomed to it through the years, but he didn't like it. She had told him once, in passing, that she'd always had the impression real men drank scotch.

He smoked the occasional rich Cuban Cigar. Cigars that emitted a smoky smell that she had always enjoyed inhaling off of his clothing.

Everything he loved led him straight back to her. Even when they had drifted apart, she had left those impressions on him. Just as no one would truly ever replace her, nothing could replace the things she had instilled into him.

Just as she had influenced his favorite external items that defined his personality, his two secret obsessions were all her fault. From day one, he had been utterly fascinated with them, and it didn't help that they looked killer in that blue cocktail dress.

Well, almost as sexy as they did right now, protruding from underneath the hem of one of his flannel shirts as she spread across the couch with a book. Yes, Derek Shepherd was in love with his wife's legs.

He swallowed hard as his eyes began at her perfectly manicured toes and trailed all the way up to where they disappeared in his favorite shirt. His foot kicked the door to the trailer shut, and he stepped inside.

"Hey," He tried to make conversation, but he couldn't get his mind off of her legs.

"Hey," Addison slipped the bookmark in her book and dropped it to the floor next to her. She didn't miss the dazed look in her husband's eyes, "Something on your mind?"

Derek chuckled, "You're driving me crazy."

He sat at the end of the couch opposite her head and motioned for her to put her feet in his lap. He absentmindedly ran his fingers up and down each of her legs, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. Addison began to drill him about daily, mundane stuff, but his attention never wavered.

His left hand softly massaged her toned calf; years of wearing high heels had made them shapely. His right hand, meanwhile, was making trails around her knee and up her thigh, always stopping just before reaching the hem of he shirt. He could feel her tense and her conversation begin to slow as he became more intense in his exploration of his legs.

He was now using both hands to trail up her legs, ignoring the invisible barrier the shirt had created before. It took him only a few trips underneath the shirt to become lost in desire.

"God, Addie," He whispered heavily as he slipped out from under her legs and moved to lay on top of her.

Addison greedily accepted the kiss that he laid on her lips, and when he released his lips from the kiss to move down her jaw line, she mused, "This gets you every time."

"What's that?" He wondered, pausing his downward journey only long enough to wonder.

"Displaying my legs, I've got your number, Derek," She reached her hands down and forced him back up so she could kiss him and work at removing his shirt.

Derek couldn't help but think that that really wasn't such a bad thing. If Addison having him pegged meant he got to do this, he was totally okay with it.

A satisfied Derek and Addison lay together on the floor, the couch had proved too small for anything worthwhile, sometime later. Addison's head was rested on his chest and one of her legs was draped across his. Derek's hand absentmindedly began running his hand up her thigh.

When Addison shifted a few moments later her hair drifted into his face, and he inhaled deeply. Her hair definitely was his favorite smell; he almost recognized it as lavender. The weight of her head on his chest was definitely his favorite feeling in the world; it made it seem that she depended on him.

It was at that moment that Derek realized it wasn't just her legs. It was Addison that drove him wild.