Around the Sun

by BlossomOfSnow

Derek & Addison divorce when she first hands him the papers. Derek hasn't forgiven her & she's trying her best to pick up the pieces. They don't see each other again until they're both commissioned to work on a clinical trial in Washington DC, which has them spending more time together than they'd want. An ADDEK story set in the four seasons. TRIGGER WARNINGS inside. COMPLETE!

2. Summer

A/N: Next chapter up. :) The whole story is basically done so everything will be up in less than a week. Thanks for taking the time to read. Hope everyone is staying safe!

---

On their first trip back in the summer, Andrew sat them down for a serious talk the very first day. Addison was in a khaki dress with bright flowers that emphasized her fit waist, her hair shorter than last time and tied in a low pony tail. Derek thought she didn't look remotely like the Addison he knew in New York. It was the dress, and the hair length. And maybe it was also the quiet set of determination in her jaw as she sat cross legged next time him.

"I hope the last two weeks were relaxing," Andrew started, fixing the three of them a cup of coffee. "I know the trial can be very taxing, and we're all just getting our groove on."

Addison accepted the cup Andrew presented and took a tentative sip. "I actually did get the massage you suggested," she offered. "It was exquisite."

"And I see you've cut your hair," Andrew replied, gesturing to her red hair now at shoulder's length.

Addison smiled at him, impressed. "And that is how you stay married for 20 years," she remarked without second thought. "You notice the little things." She knew from experience men rarely noticed the small things, including a haircut or a change in hair color. Derek certainly never did, but it wasn't as if she had changed a lot with her hair over the course of their marriage. There was one time she tried bangs, which was a disaster, but Derek didn't even notice. It was either he didn't care that she looked disastrous with full on bangs, or he didn't notice she had cut her hair at all. And then of course there was whole incident with the blonde thing, but Derek was never there to know about it.

For once Derek didn't seem like making a quip about how staying married isn't about noticing when your wife gets a haircut. It's about the vows, he thought bitterly. He kept silent and stirred his coffee with a teaspoon.

He had done a lot of thinking while in Seattle. He realized that 1) Addison was great at what she did and if anything else, she had earned his respect for her skills as a physician, 2) Addison usually never started the bickering. He was the one who always had a cheap shot to throw in her face, and he was usually met with a mixed bag. Sometimes it was Addison Forbes Montgomery, the personification of Bizzy Forbes' daughter, haughty, pointed ignorance, giving him just a look which meant she wasn't going to dignify him with a response. It was unnerving, like looking at the exact image of cold-hearted Bizzy. But sometimes he was also met with just Addison, his Addie, the one who fought and argued and crossed him at every turn. Because she could. Because she was passionate. Because she loved him enough to point out his faults. He used to find that endearing when they were dating, and early on in their marriage. But later on it just all seemed like nagging to him.

When are you coming home Derek?

Are you taking another surgery?

You're not coming to dinner are you?

In his most honest moments, Derek could admit he was a pain in the ass, and the trial could go a lot smoother if he could just box Addison the way he felt she had for him. But his pride got in the way a lot of the time, and he wasn't about to admit fault to his adulteress ex-wife. But his pride was also the reason he could not afford to be kicked off this trial on account of bad behavior, so he mustered all the maturity he had (which Nancy would certainly remark wasn't that much to begin with) and concluded once again he could be civil and professional. It was hard the first time. All the emotions came rushing at him. But he was more prepared now.

"The hair cut suits you, Addie," he offered generously, and finding that he actually meant it.

Addison turned to him, a little surprised. But she accepted the compliment with a quiet thanks.

"It looks like you're off to a good start," Andrew commented, looking between the two of them. "I hope this pleasant mood lasts. And I hope to God this is my last reminder that you both better be on your best behavior. It's immensely embarrassing for accomplished surgeons such as yourselves to be called to the principal's office for starting a fight in the school yard." He finished the sentence with a pointed look at Derek.

Rumor has it, Derek was the one who always started it. It wasn't beyond Andrew to believe it. He's seen Derek pick fights even when he was an intern, a darker side of him he was sure not many people knew about.

"Yes, Sir," Derek answered dutifully, if a little meekly.

"That thing in the OR last time? Don't let it happen again," Andrew reminded. "You want to call each other out, do so respectfully. There is no room for brashness here."

"I went fishing," Derek supplied, gesturing to Addison's haircut (which was weird, but whatever). "I'm feeling much better, and I guarantee you, for real this time, that Dr. Montgomery and I will be on our best behavior."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Andrew muttered, but pulled out a manila envelope for each of them anyway. "These are the files of your patients for the next two weeks. Your first OR is tomorrow; she'll be admitted today so you can make pre-op rounds late this afternoon."

Addison leafed through the files, noting they had about 5 surgeries scheduled for the next two weeks.

"As I have made clear last time, I'm not a marriage counselor by any means," Andrew started, "but that's moot as you're not even married anymore. But maybe if you try to spend a little more time with each other outside of work, you'll find that the dynamic between you two hasn't changed all that much."

Addison looked up curiously, and Derek straightened in his seat.

"I saw your first surgery last month," Andrew reminded. "When you're not busy trying to kill each other, you work flawlessly as a team. I'd like to see more of that."

Derek had to agree that their performance that first time was amazing. They had moved in perfect synchrony with each other. He had never worked so smoothly with any other surgeon in his career than he did with Addison, and it seemed a bitter divorce didn't really change that. Heck, he didn't even work that flawlessly with Meredith, and that was saying a lot considering he and Meredith had done countless surgeries together by this point.

"So here's my suggestion. All surgeries for the trial are pre-scheduled. We'll have them all in the morning. Barring any emergency cases in the afternoons, you are both to work on post-op papers and other clinical trial matters together. It doesn't matter where—at the conference room, the cafeteria, outside the hospital, whatever. But I need you to build on your rapport. I told you before I want you guys to communicate better, and this will help I think. Think of it as a team building exercise of sorts."

Derek snorted at the suggestion. "You've been talking to Richard."

Addison raised a brow at Andrew incredulously. "This has Richard Webber written all over it," she stated skeptically. Turning to Derek, "Remember that one time when Fields and Baker wouldn't stop grating on each other's nerves—"

"And Richard made them do 30 fecal disimpactions together?" Derek continued, laughing at the memory from internship he had long since forgotten.

Andrew shook his head. "Yes, I've been speaking with Richard, but you forget he knows the both of you just as well and just as long as I have. He knows your MO."

"We aren't interns anymore," Derek retorted.

"Yes, but you're acting like interns so I'm forced to treat you like interns," Andrew said with a shake of his head. "Just... give it a try, ok? Like I've told you guys before, this grant is huge. We can't have co-leads who are at each other's throats all the damn time. The trial deserves more."

Addison nodded slowly, glancing at Derek and then at Andrew. "You're right."

Derek sighed, feeling defeated but not as badly as he had expected. "I guess this is so much better than fecal disimpactions," he said dryly.

"Damn right it is," he muttered. "Communicate," he emphasized, "I don't want to hear any more complaints from the staff about the two of you," he said before shooing them away to get back to work.

...

Derek and Addison did pre-op rounds together later that afternoon, and then went their separate ways after. The next time Derek saw Addison, she was in the locker room already poised to tie her cap on and getting ready to leave for the scrub room.

She glanced at Derek, hands still raised to tie her cap. Wordlessly, Derek walked right behind her and finished the knot.

"Thank you," she said, clearing her throat, a little surprised by the gesture and how familiar it all felt. Like rote, Derek turned around and positioned his own scrub cap on and Addison raised her hands to tie it for him. She noticed it was the same scrub cap with the ferry boat print she bought for him as a present on his first solo surgery as a neurosurgery fellow. It was only a little faded. Derek took great care of it.

When Addison was done, he turned around to her. "Good morning, Addie."

Addison chuckled. "Good morning," she replied, sitting down on the bench to put on her OR shoes. Derek quickly changed into his scrubs and sat on the bench next to Addison, tying his laces.

"You ready for today?"

"I was born ready," Addison said without missing a beat.

"I suppose I can't argue with that," Derek smiled, standing up and extending a hand to help Addison up from the bench. She took it without much thought and they walked side by side to the scrub room.

"Nancy called me this morning," Derek said without preamble as he washed his hands.

She raised her brow at that. "Oh?"

"She's moving her practice from Brooklyn to Manhattan, says she found a good deal for an office space and the clientele is much better."

Addison nodded. "She mentioned that to me last time. She was deciding between a space in downtown, and one in the Upper East Side, closer to Mt. Sinai."

Derek paused. Of course Addison still spoke with Nancy. Well, he hadn't really thought about it much to be honest, but Nancy had mentioned Addison once or twice over the past few years that it was only easy to assume they still kept in touch. But he didn't think they kept in touch so often. Although, it shouldn't have surprised him. Addison had been the 5th Shepherd sister since he brought her home the first time, and she and Nancy had a particularly strong bond.

"What did you advise?" Derek asked.

Addison shrugged, washing the rest of the suds away. "I told her since she's affiliated with Sinai anyway, it might be better to be closer to the hospital in case she needs to transfer. Plus the rent would probably be cheaper than downtown anyway. I mean, not that rent anywhere in Manhattan is cheap."

Derek nodded in agreement. "An apartment in Manhattan is only cheap—"

"If someone has died in it," Addison finished, turning to Derek with a grin. That was what Mark used to always say.

Derek smiled in return before they walked to the OR to gown and glove. For once the thought of Mark didn't send a stabbing pain or a surge of anger through his chest.

Once Addison was situated next to the patient, she looked up at the gallery and noticed that Andrew was there, sitting in between the interns, watching them closely. Derek turned his head to check what Addison was looking at and then chuckled.

"God is here."

"He's here to make sure we're absolute angels," Addison remarked, keeping her hands close to her chest as she waited for the anesthesiologist to give them the green light to begin.

"Remember Lucy's first communion?" Derek asked, referring to Kathleen's daughter. "Those angel wings she had—"

"That caught on fire while we were in church?" Addison continued dryly. "That was a nightmare."

"It was," Derek agreed as Addison took the cue from the anesthesiologist and made her first incision.

"Poor Lucy was scarred for life, I think," she said as she continued her ministrations.

Derek held out his hand to the scrub nurse, asking for a retractor. Usually a resident would assist in this part of the procedure, but Derek was already scrubbed in and he knew exactly what Addison was doing. The scrub nurse hesitantly handed Derek an army navy which he used to retract the skin that Addison had already incised.

Addison looked up, smiling gratefully before continuing her work.

"Lucy's fine," Derek continued, mirroring Addison's movements as she held layers with forceps on one hand and incised it with a scalpel on the other. "It's John that's a little more scarred."

"John?" Addison asked, furrowing her brow at why Lucy's older brother would be scarred.

Derek's hands moved in synchrony with Addison's as he continued his story. "For his confirmation last year, he chose the name Damien, you know, after St. Damien."

"That's a big name for such a small kid," Addison commented, picturing John and his skinny arms that were far longer than they were supposed to be for his body, in the way it was with teenagers.

Derek nodded in agreement, letting go of the retractor and helping Addison delicately expose the uterus.

"Why was he scarred?" Addison asked, gesturing for the ultrasound probe.

"The kids in his class had a sleepover where they watched The Omen."

"Oh no." Addison said, a little dread creeping in her voice at the realization of how the story was about to conclude.

"And apparently, Damian is the antichrist and the son of the devil."

Addison bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "Damn," she said. "That must really suck."

"They teased him mercilessly after that," Derek continued, watching as Addison guided the probe to locate the fetal back.

"Poor Johnny," she answered, eyes fixed on the ultrasound screen to watch what she was doing. "And he's such a sweet boy too."

"I know."

"I sent him tickets to see a Yankees game on his birthday two months ago," Addison said, eyes still on the screen. "He called me when he got them. He was so thankful. He's a such great kid."

"He is," Derek agreed, only just realizing that Addison wasn't only in touch with Nancy, but with the rest of his family. She still sent them gifts for their birthdays, presents for Christmas, got hand drawn greeting cards from the little ones for her own birthday, and was generally still a Shepherd except in name. For his part, he couldn't even remember for the life of him when John's birthday was.

"Kathleen's lucky to have such angels," she continued. "Nancy, on the other hand," she said with a laugh, not finishing her statement as Derek nodded in quick agreement. Nancy's kids were a handful; he knew that well enough from babysitting one too many of them over the years.

When Addison had located the fetal back, she gave a pointed look at Derek before she turned to the resident and asked her to insert the ports. This time, Derek knew better than to question Addison, and he allowed her to teach and guide the resident with the procedure. When the ports were in and the defect was exposed, Derek took the reins.

Addison kept her eyes on the fetal monitor, making sure the heart rate was within normal limits as Derek tried to reduce the defect.

"So Nancy is picking up shop and moving to Manhattan?" Addison asked.

Derek nodded, his hands gentle on the probes. "She is." His eyes were on the monitor flashing the image from the fetoscope.

"That's gonna be quite a commute from Brooklyn," Addison commented.

"Maybe it's high time she buys herself a more practical car anyway," Derek answered, carefully tucking in a part of the sac, guiding the probes expertly.

"Oh please, like that jeep that you dragged all the way to Seattle is practical," Addison retorted lightly.

"It's practical," he answered defensively.

"Maybe in the woods where you live now. But in Manhattan? At the brownstone?" she continued, eyes still fixed on the monitor, her ears only barely registering the steady thrum of the fetal heart beat as she watched for the rate.

Derek reduced the entire sac and started to suture the fetal back. "The jeep is great," he said in defense after a moment's pause. "And a lot more practical than the Mercedes you insist on driving."

"The Mercedes is great," Addison mimicked, turning her eyes from the monitor to meet Derek's, eyes crinkling to show she was smiling. Derek smiled back at her.

"Wait, you still have the jeep?" Addison asked in surprise. "That must be at least 10 years old now."

Derek grinned at the surprise in her voice, finding it so easy to talk about these things with Addison now. "It's a workhorse, Addison."

Addison only shook her head.

They finished the procedure in companionable silence, everyone was astonished it was even possible. The nurses couldn't believe Derek and Addison had not only worked seamlessly next to each other, like pieces of a moving puzzle sliding perfectly next to each other at every turn, but they also managed light and friendly conversation throughout the entire surgery. It was nothing short of a miracle. No bickering, no fighting, no unnecessary tension. God must have been over Washington DC that day.

Andrew watched them from the gallery, realizing not for the first time what a joy it was to witness these two brilliant surgeons perform together. He was right all along—if they could just put their differences aside, they worked like a well-oiled machine. He was nothing short of proud as he left the gallery and went on with his day, reminding himself to give Richard a call when he found the time.

Later Addison and Derek were at the nurse's station finishing up their post-op notes. Addison's brow was furrowed as she typed her OR technique and her post-op orders, in seemingly hard concentration. Derek stood next to her, thinking about the surgery they had just performed together.

Addison was his partner for so long—not just in life, as a wife, but as a physician. They had worked on countless cases together during their marriage, and he had witnessed her blossom, her skills only growing and glowing as the years went by. He was proud of her. And he knew from the way Addison had smiled at him after the surgery that she was proud of him too.

"Dr. Petty and Dr. Pretty weren't in attendance today," Derek observed good-naturedly.

Addison rolled her eyes. "Those nicknames are your fault, Derek. But Dr. Pretty, that's me," she clarified, "is always in attendance. Except I'd much prefer Dr. Intellectual or something."

Derek chuckled and shrugged. "I'm sorry about that. Really."

She looked up from the monitor to look at Derek, offering him a half smile.

"I really was unpleasant," Derek admitted, hands deep in his scrub pockets. Addison knew that was a nervous habit, one of many subtle nervous habits. "And they wouldn't have started making names if I had just kept my mouth shut."

She sighed wearily. "I shouldn't have engaged you anyway," she said, "so I'm sorry too."

Derek held his hand out. "Truce?"

Addison eyed the hand suspiciously, but she shook it anyway. "Truce," she confirmed.

"I think Derek and Addison are back," he said lightly, grinning. In that moment, he decided, there would be no more room for hate. If anything, he wanted one of his best friends back, and he couldn't have that if he kept on crucifying her for her mistakes.

She rolled her eyes again and went back to the monitor. "Addison and Derek," she corrected.

...

"Derek, the uterus is contracting," Addison said hurriedly, tearing her eyes from the monitor and moving to stand right next to the patient.

"Just give me a second Addison," Derek replied, tone hard.

Addison shook her head, holding her hand out for the scalpel. "Derek, there are late decels and fetal heart rate is dropping. I have to deliver."

"Can't you give her something—"

"I can't, Derek," Addison said sternly. "FHT is 100s and if I don't deliver—"

"She's only 23 weeks, Addison. I just need a few more seconds to clip—"

"I know she's only 23 weeks," she said through gritted teeth. "But if we wait any longer this baby won't have a chance at all."

Derek didn't stop, ignoring the frantic beeping of the fetal monitor behind him.

"Derek," Addison said again, firmer this time, hands already poised to increase the size of the uterine incision and deliver the baby.

The fetal monitor started beeping more frantically, Addison turning her head to see that the FHT had dropped to the 90s.

"Dr. Shepherd," she said sternly, eyes sharp and determined as she looked at Derek.

Derek lifted his eyes and met Addison's. There was a moment's pause before he sighed in defeat and let go of the probes, finally allowing Addison to do what she had to do to save the baby's life.

"Get an incubator ready," Addison barked as she opened up the uterus completely. The resident next to her was suctioning madly at the amniotic fluid, and Derek stepped closer to the surgical field to help retract the skin.

Addison pulled the small baby out, clamped and cut the cord, and immediately brought her to resuscitation area. Derek noticed the baby wasn't crying. The resident finished up with the mother while Addison worked to warm the small blue baby.

"Get me a 2.5," she ordered as someone turned on the warmer lights over the child. A nurse handed Addison a 2.5 ET tube and a neonatal laryngoscope, a flurry of activity as Addison tried to intubate the baby.

"Heart rate at 60 Dr. Montgomery," the nurse said, monitoring the baby's heart.

"Shit," Addison muttered, struggling to intubate the baby's very small airway. Derek swiftly moved in place and started chest compressions, no one questioning why a neurosurgeon was performing chest compressions on a neonate.

"Someone get a UVC set," Derek yelled, knowing exactly what Addison was going to need next right after she finished intubating the baby.

When Addison had successfully intubated, a nurse hurriedly started bagging the patient. She moved on to work on IV access through the umbilicus, locating the vein and taking the forceps from the UVC set someone had efficiently brought in.

Around the OR, it was a frenzy of activity. The resident stayed to close up the mother. Derek continued chest compressions, checking the heart rate at intervals to determine if he could stop. The nurse was busy bagging the patient and checking for oxygen saturation.

Flustered though she was, Addison calmly dilated the umbilical vein, a procedure that usually took a new resident more than a few minutes to accomplish. Without any more assistance, Addison gently but surely inserted the catheter into the lumen of the vein until she got back flow, and sighed in relief.

"Epinephrine," she ordered as she finished up the procedure and hand held out for a syringe of the medication. "What's the heart rate?" Addison asked without looking up from her administration.

Derek stopped compressions and allowed the nurse to check the rate with a stethoscope.

"80," she said answered after a few seconds.

Addison looked up and checked the baby's chest for movement. It was rising and falling with the precise decompression of the ambubag.

"One epi in," Addison announced. "Check the rate again."

The nurse did what she was told, Derek watching from the side at Addison's calm demeanor. She was always so good at staying collected despite the most high-stress situations in the operating room.

"110, Dr. Montgomery."

Addison nodded. "Let's get her to the NICU quickly," she announced, taking a step back as the nurses carefully placed the baby in an isolette and rapidly transferred her to the NICU.

Derek exchanged a glance with Addison, nodding wordlessly.

"You'll be okay to close, Dr. Matthews?" Addison asked the resident who was working on the mother.

"Yes, Dr. Goldstein is on his way to assist me," she answered, referring to the OB GYN on call.

Addison nodded in approval before swiftly following the isolette back to the NICU, Derek staying back until Dr. Goldstein arrived in case the resident needed assistance.

A few hours later, the 23-weeker was relatively stable in the NICU, all medications started and the sac dressed for now. Derek found Addison leaning on the incubator, her finger gently grazing the baby's hand. Her hair was tied in a messy low pony tail, red strands askew across her face. She looked tired, maybe a bit anxious, but also a bit relieved, at least for now.

"She's a fighter," Derek commented as he stepped into the NICU fully.

Addison looked up, the exhaustion evident in the way her shoulders slumped a little. "She is," she agreed with a small smile. "But she's got a long way to go."

Derek nodded, walking closer to the incubator to take a better look at the baby. "Is the mother awake?" he asked.

She tilted her head a little. "Transed out from the PACU about an hour ago. She's doing well."

"Have you spoken to her?"

"I did, right after we got this little girl stable enough," she answered, not taking her eyes away from the baby. "She's worried, but we told her there's a team monitoring her 24/7."

"She's only 23 weeks," Derek shook his head, looking sadly at the small bundle, so fragile inside the incubator. "With a very debilitating congenital defect at that."

"I know," she agreed. "But we'll take it a day at a time. Her heart beat is strong, and we've already done a round of steroids and surfactant. We'll see in a few days if we can wean her off the vent. We don't want her to get PPHN" Addison looked up then, meeting Derek's eyes. "You might have to talk to her parents though, explain to them the options for the meningocoele now."

Derek nodded wordlessly, taking the last step so he and Addison were across each other, the incubator between them.

"I'm sorry we had to deliver, Derek," Addison started.

He shook his head. "No, don't apologize. You were right to deliver her."

Addison smiled in appreciation and Derek smiled back.

"Have you eaten?" Derek asked. It was close to 4pm and he was almost certain Addison hadn't left the baby since they got to the NICU. He was able to catch a quick lunch right after the surgery, even make rounds on a patient before then. But Addison was busy the entire time trying to save the baby girl's life.

"No, but I had a good breakfast," she answered, eyes transfixed on the baby again. "I'm fine."

"I'm going down to the cafeteria to get some coffee. Maybe I can get you something?"

"You don't have to," she answered.

"It's fine," Derek waved. "I'll be right back."

Half an hour later, he had a brown bag of peanut butter sandwiches and two steaming cups of coffee in his hands as he walked up to the NICU. When he got there, he set the food down and noticed Addison in one of the rocking chairs, cradling a baby a little bigger than the one they delivered earlier that day, rocking him gently.

Derek paused, eyes trained on Addison. For a moment Derek felt like he was back in New York, checking up on Addison after a surgery and finding her accosting any of the babies in the NICU stable enough to be held outside the incubator. She always looked so natural with children that he often wondered how they never managed to have any of their own. This was Addison in a way he had not seen or appreciated in a long time. Scrubs wrinkled, hair messy, exhaustion completely evident on her face. But somehow, also still immensely content and beautiful and amazing. His throat tightened a little. He wasn't in love with his ex-wife, he was fairly sure, but this vision brought back so many memories of their life before, the good ones, the best ones, the ones that reminded him every day how lucky he was to be married to such a compassionate and competent and confident woman. But that was all in the past now.

Not wanting to disturb the moment just yet, he allowed himself to lean against one of the posts and keep watching Addison rock the baby, cooing at him occasionally and touching the back of her finger to the baby's cheek gently. How often had Addison held his newborn nieces and nephews looking like such a natural? How often was she the only one with the capacity to make them stop crying that his sisters always thought she had some sort of magic? Far too many times, Derek recalled. And just for a moment, he allowed himself to revel in those memories. She and Addison were worlds apart now, with lives so vastly different from the one they used to lead together.

When he saw Addison stifle a yawn, he decided it was time to intervene. He quietly picked up the food and walked over to her. She looked up at him from the rocking chair and smiled sheepishly.

"I couldn't help myself," she said without allowing Derek to speak, knowing he was about tease her about her compulsive need to a hold a baby while in the NICU.

Derek's eyebrows raised in amusement. "I wasn't going to say anything," he said, "except that your hands are full. And while I think your hands are very much capable, I don't think you can drink your coffee while holding a tiny baby."

"Other mothers have done it before. It's the only way to survive," she said seriously, but she stood up anyway and relinquished the baby back to his respective incubator.

Derek held out the coffee and she accepted gratefully, inhaling the welcome scent of the hot drink. "Thank you, Derek."

"You're welcome," he said, pulling out the sandwich from the brown bag. "There was only peanut butter left," he said by way of explanation.

She took the sandwich from him and led him to the chairs in the corner of the room, right next to the window. "Well it's a good thing I love peanut butter then," she replied, setting the coffee on the window sill and taking a small bite of her sandwich.

"You do love peanut butter," Derek agreed, the expression on his face unreadable. They used to do this all the time—as interns and as residents. Addison loved doing her work in the NICU because it was always quiet, and Derek always found the time to slip in to share a quick lunch with her. Even a quick 15-minute lunch and a peck on the lips were enough to power him through the day. He wasn't sure when all that changed—when sneaking in to see his wife was suddenly such a chore.

"Did you go check on the mother?" she asked before taking another bite.

"I will after this," he said, frowning as he unwrapped his sandwich. "I guess Peter is going to have to go in for the repair."

"Not for another couple of weeks. He's too unstable right now."

Derek nodded as he chewed and swallowed his bite. "How much longer will you be here?" he asked, referring to the NICU.

Addison shrugged. "I really don't want to leave her, but Andrew came by and gave strict instructions to leave the baby to the care of the night staff. So I just have to stay to endorse and make sure they know to call me if anything happens."

Derek nodded, taking a bite of his sandwich. Addison's dedication to her patients was something he easily understood. After all, he was the exact same way. They were molded the same way, cut the same way, whether it was because they were trained in all the same institutions since medical school, or because they were well and truly kindred spirits, he wasn't exactly sure. But dedication was something he knew well. It was the same dedication that insidiously cracked the foundations of their marriage.

"I think I'll be just about done talking to the parents after you've spoken with the night staff. We can walk back to the hotel together," he offered.

Addison raised a brow. "Derek, are you sure? The night staff doesn't come in for another hour and a half."

Derek shrugged. "I can take my time with the parents. I'm sure they'll have lots of questions. And I can catch up on some post-op notes. I'd rather you don't walk back to the hotel alone. We don't know this area very well."

Addison paused at that, admittedly very touched, and trying very hard not to swoon. Damn Derek Shepherd. She reminded herself this probably meant nothing to him, and this was just Derek meeting his compulsive need to be the good guy. So she schooled her face, gave a smile she hoped looked moderately grateful, and then nodded.

"That's kind of you, thank you."

"My pleasure," he smiled before taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Derek..." she started after a few moments, half her coffee gone and her sandwich devoured.

He turned his gaze away from the window and looked curiously at Addison.

"Yeah?"

Addison paused, seemingly unsure of herself. "You're being... nice," she settled, hoping the slight panic she felt didn't register in her tone. "You're being nice and it's unnerving," she said seriously.

Derek stared at her and then chuckled. "I am nice," he answered defensively.

"Not in DC you're not," she argued. "Are you okay? You're not high or anything right? Are you running a fever Do you have a cold? I heard there's a bug going around." she said, moving to touch his forehead.

"Addison, relax," Derek laughed, swatting her hand away.

"I can't," she insisted. "You're being nice. You haven't been this nice to me since... well... not since we were married."

"Why can't you just accept it and let it go?" he asked curiously, shrugging. The Addison he knew never backed down, so he honestly wasn't surprised that she was pressing. But for the first time in a long while, it wasn't grating on his nerves or irritating him.

"Because you hate my guts," she said frankly. "And I know you, Derek. You don't just change your opinion about someone that quickly."

"Maybe I've changed," he challenged, again not really surprised that Addison still knew the little facets about himself even he was unwilling to admit.

Addison frowned, considering it. "Yeah, but your niceness is creeping me out."

"Would you rather I stay nasty?" he countered, teasing.

She grimaced at that. "You were nasty," she agreed. "But it still begs the question. Why are you suddenly so friendly?"

Derek pursed his lips in thought. "Andrew told us to play nice, so I am. And before you say anything, I'm not just being nice because the boss told me to be."

She narrowed her eyes skeptically. "Your niceness is creeping me out," she repeated. After a pause, she added, "And I'm sure it's creeping the staff out, too."

Derek sighed, knowing Addison wasn't going to let things go so easily, or take things at face value. "Look, Addie. At some point we're going to talk, okay? We'll find the right moment for it. But right now, I'm at least ready to admit that you and I were great friends before things went south, and you don't treat a friend with anything but kindness."

Addison did a double take at that, pausing to consider his words. Derek almost smirked at the half second Addison was actually speechless.

"That is... very mature," she conceded approvingly, her voice slow. She paused, and then, "Are you really sure you're ok? You're not up to anything? Oh god, did you lace my coffee with arsenic?"

Derek shook his head. "Only you, Addison," he chuckled, realizing not for the first time that Addison usually had such a hard time accepting kindness, not after a childhood like hers.

"Derek..."

He sighed again, patting her hand gently. "It's not always going to be like this. It's not going to be perfect, and knowing the both of us, we will probably yell at each other again sometime soon. But... we were married. We had more than a decade of good times. I think... we owe each other a hell of a lot more than just decency, and I seem to remember you were a great friend to have around."

She nodded carefully, not believing what she was hearing, but also almost not trusting herself to speak. "May I ask what brought this on?"

Truthfully, he wasn't sure either. He was great at compartmentalizing Addison and their past when he was in Seattle, but in DC the walls were flimsy and everything was just a mess. But seeing Addison today and working with her made him realize there was so much more to Addison and their relationship than both their affairs. It was difficult to explain to himself, let alone to Addison. So he just shrugged and gave her a tentative smile.

"I don't know, Addie," he answered truthfully. "But we have time to figure it out. Can't we just enjoy what we have right now and ask questions later? I'd like to enjoy my afternoon coffee with my friend."

"Friend," Addison repeated dumbly. She didn't expect him to warm up quite so fast. In fact, she didn't expect any of this at all. Derek Shepherd? Offering an olive branch? Quite unheard of, to be absolutely truthful.

"Yes. We're adults, we're civilized, I think we're capable of many, many things," he grinned, hoping Addison would just let it go and give him time to sort out his thoughts.

Addison sighed, acquiescing. "I suppose." After a moment, she gave him a tentative smile. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Drink your coffee," Derek reminded, flashing her a smile before taking a sip of his own.

...

Two days later, Addison found herself sitting on one of the benches at the national mall. It was still light out at 5pm, and all her surgeries were done. She thought it would be a nice idea to go out and admire the city, also maybe clear her head for a bit. Derek had been unceremoniously called back to Seattle by the chief to perform a surgery on a very important patient, and won't be back for the rest of the two weeks that month. She was surprised at the subtle disappointment she felt when he announced he had to go, but she trampled it down with a smile and shrug and told him it was just part of the job.

She figured it was a good thing, him leaving. It gave her time and space to think. Her relationship with Derek was starting to get weird. She just wasn't decided if it was weird in a good way or in a bad way. They were falling into some of their old married couple patterns, even revisiting some of their traditions as interns. And Derek was actually being kind. Wasn't it just a month ago when Derek was calling her an adulterous whore in front of the entire nursing staff of GWU? Wasn't it recently that Derek told her in no uncertain terms that they were to be strictly Dr. Shepherd and Dr. Montgomery, and speak only within the confines of work?

Well, in all fairness, they did only still speak at work. They never spoke to each other on their two weeks off the trial. But the arguing was gone. The quips were gone. The cheap shots were gone. Addison felt it was too good to be completely true. She knew Derek Shepherd well enough to know he probably had a few quips he wanted to make but squashed down for fear of Andrew reprimanding them yet again. You don't stop being petty in just a few weeks.

But there were so many moments that Derek was completely sincere. The smiles he gave her were exactly the ones he used to reserve only for her (except now she was sure Meredith got those smiles too). He was generous and kind and gentlemanly—all the things she used to love about him, and consequently all the things that were making it harder for her to deny that she just wasn't over her ex-husband.

Addison sighed, eyes on a bush with bright yellow flowers but not really seeing them. Derek was confusing. And she hated not knowing how to act around him. She didn't want to fall for him again. Lord knows they had hurt each other so badly in the past that if anything were to happen between them now, it would only go haywire. His kindness was maddening, and she felt like she was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Derek used to be the perfect husband. He showed up to dinners. Remembered birthdays. Planned surprises. Gave her all the world she needed and all the love she ever wanted in her life. But they were competitive and determined to a fault, both of them. And as their careers skyrocketed, the quality of their marriage plummeted. She had been the first to notice. Somewhere in their 8th year of marriage she realized the dinner dates were getting fewer and farther in between, and she was waking up alone more mornings than she would like. But at that time, she chalked it up to the stage their careers were in in that moment in time, and figured it would get better after her second fellowship. By the 9th year she was absolutely certain they were growing apart when she found herself trying to cook a romantic dinner when she'd never even cooked in her life, a sure sign of desperation on her part. Their marital problems started long before Mark entered the picture, he was just the tip of the iceberg. And by their 10th year, when Mark showed up more than Derek ever did, Addison oscillated between resigned and hurt, and desperate and determined to make their marriage work. It was a vicious cycle—Addison planning a romantic evening, Derek not showing up. Addison hurt, resigned, Mark swooping in to eat the salmon she had attempted to bake for Derek just to make her feel better. And then the cycle would repeat itself.

At first, Addison couldn't fault Derek. She knew the hours he kept. She kept them too. But as their careers diverged, she found that you could have an entirely competitive career but still make time for the people you love. She set aside time, delegated work and surgeries, and stayed overnight only when it was absolutely necessary. Even then, patient care on her part was never compromised. But Derek? He was full speed ahead, always feeling like he had to be one step ahead of the next guy. It couldn't be anyone else monitoring the patient overnight. No other doctor was good enough. He was always competing, with other neurosurgeons, and with himself. And it became increasingly harder for Addison to pull him back in to the safety of their marriage, their little cocoon where nothing else mattered but the two of them. She had tried many times to get him to come home, but it was always not now Addison, I don't have time for this Addison, maybe Mark will come Addie. Her name on his lips went from sweet and adoring at the beginning of their marriage, to constantly annoyed in the middle, to absolutely spiteful at the very end.

In retrospect, she should have tried harder, with other ways. She should have realized her tactics weren't working and could have tried other means. She shouldn't have always been so combative. Should have tried to be more understanding. But the thing was, even then, she knew her worth. And she knew she didn't deserve a husband who only saw her when it was convenient, who linked arms with her at charity galas and spun her on the dance floor, only to leave her in the middle to attend to a patient someone else could have handled. She was feisty. She still is. And back then, that feistiness led to numerous arguments that had one of them sleeping on the couch on the rare nights they were even both at home at the same time.

Derek meant so much to her that it physically pained her to sign those papers, pack up the brownstone, sell it, and then box up Derek Shepherd in her mind. She can admit to herself she never stopped loving him, probably never would. But she was mature enough to know that love wasn't enough to make a marriage work. Marriage was more than just loving each other—it was hard work and time and trust and forgiveness and compromise. And they both lacked those components severely towards the end of their marriage. They had hurt each other exceptionally, and loving him just wasn't enough to convince herself it was worth going through all of it again.

She knew that throughout their marriage, Derek loved her. She didn't think it was ever a question of that. But she had become second priority, and the love for his career became more consuming than the marriage they shared. When she cheated on him, she knew her actions had hurt him deeply. He never showed up and rarely expressed his love anymore, but she knew he was profoundly wounded and devastated after she slept with Mark. Just the knowledge of the hand she played in hurting the love of her life in the most severe way possible was more than enough punishment to live with every day.

She decided she just had to get through this clinical trial. She just had to get through it, and she would be fine. There was no way she was going to allow Derek Shepherd to weasel his way into her heart again (not that he was doing so purposely of course. She was sure he was too busy debating the merits of throwing Mark at her face at every opportunity possible). And there was absolutely no way she was going to allow herself to hope that anything could ever happen between her and Derek again. She couldn't hope. Hope was dangerous. Besides, though Derek never talked about her, she knew he was still with Meredith. And Addison just wasn't going to be that woman. She was too classy for that, and had enough self-respect to know she didn't deserve to be the woman pining for a man who didn't love her. The thing with Derek? Whatever it was? Just not worth breaking her heart all over again, not when she was just picking up the pieces.

She can continue to be friendly, and to some extent she welcomed him as the friend she always knew him to be. But she was going to draw the line there. She had to.

...

"Some of my friends from Dartmouth are spending the weekend in Seattle," Meredith said as they sat at the dinner table eating the trout he had fished earlier that day. "I thought we could take them to the Space Needle on Saturday, or maybe the Boeing factory. You're not on call on Saturday, right?"

Derek looked up, not really feeling like eating the grilled fish on his plate. "What? Oh. Yeah, I guess I'm not on call," he answered distractedly. He had been pretty quiet lately. Meredith figured it was just from the exhaustion of the monthly commute to DC. But he was being really different this time around, after his trip was cut short, and she had noticed.

"Is everything okay?" she asked carefully, head tilted to study Derek's face.

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, everything is fine," he tried to reassure her, smiling and then patting her hand. "So your friends from Dartmouth?"

Meredith nodded. "Will you be free to come with us?"

"I've been to the Space Needle," he answered without really thinking.

She paused and then narrowed her eyes. "I've been to the Space Needle too," she answered carefully. "Derek, are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm okay," he sighed, trying to sound reassuring as he held his hand out to squeeze hers. "Just tired."

"You've been acting a little weird since you got back from DC. Did you have a difficult patient?" she asked.

Derek shrugged. "Yeah, we delivered a pre-term, but Addison took care of it," he said distractedly. He sighed again. "I'll come with you to the Space Needle after lunch, ok? I just need to grab some things from the trailer."

Meredith pursed her lips but decided she was too tired to start an argument. So she just nodded in agreement, and that was the end of the conversation for the rest of the night.

On Saturday morning, Derek found himself at the trailer, shrugging his vest off and kicking his boots to the side. He rarely came to the trailer now, except to fish. Maybe once or twice a month at most. He lived with Meredith, at her mother's old house, still with a bunch of her friends occupying the other rooms. He often found the urge to just get away from all the people, but he knew Meredith had abandonment issues and he didn't want to exacerbate that by going to the trailer every time he felt suffocated. The trailer was far too obvious for that anyway. The hospital was an easier getaway to explain. But more than that, Addison used to always say walking away was what he did best. When things got rough, especially towards the end, he walked away without a fight. He did it with Amelia, when things started to go south with her drug issue. He did it with Lizzie once when they disagreed over something of his father's that they both wanted. The prime example of course was him driving cross country from New York to Seattle just to get away after Addison's affair. Walking away was what he did best, at least according to his ex-wife, and he wanted to prove her wrong. Needed to prove her wrong, at least to himself. He didn't walk away. He just... hid. Took surgeries. Slept in on call rooms (his personal favorite when he was married to Addison). And he fished. Which was what he was about to do right now.

He wasn't running away particularly. Well, he was, a bit. He was trying to get away from Meredith's prying eyes and the questions he knew would follow. But he also just needed some space to think, and he couldn't do that when Izzie and Alex were busy having loud sex in the next room, or when Christina would barge into their bedroom demanding to speak with Meredith. There wasn't a single corner in that house where he could be absolutely himself, he often felt like he lived in a frat house. And he was far too old to be doing that.

He just needed to think. The past few weeks with Addison were confusing. There was still a huge part of himself that disliked Addison for what she had done to their marriage. He blamed her, still, even though he never got to hear her side of things. What did it matter anyway? Cheating was cheating, and he didn't believe he owed Addison any time to explain what had happened. But then again, not hearing what she had to say about it, just signing the divorce papers without trying, left a void he didn't realize was there until now. There was so much left unsaid between the two of them, so much left undone, and perhaps he had not let her go fully.

Derek got on his small boat and paddled towards the middle of the lake, casting his rod and then waiting. Here, in the stillness, things were a little clearer. Many times in the past, he had thought of Addison as Satan. She had ruined a perfectly good marriage. She had hurt him profoundly, stabbed a knife through him and twisted, allowing him to experience a kind of pain he never knew existed. For the longest time, Addison was his life. His family. The only person he could think to spend every single day with. But she struck a hard blow to their marriage by sleeping with Mark, and in his mind, there was no coming back from that. There was no way for her to redeem herself. But honestly, with all the time spent in DC, he could see that there was redemption. He saw the old Addison—still poised, competent, compassionate, humorous and witty. But he also saw a new Addison mixed in with the old—quietness and reservation she didn't used to have, even more finesse in her work and confidence in her skills, strength of a magnitude he never thought she was capable of, and heartbreaking self-deprecation and self-punishment. It was clear to him that Addison still blamed herself for their marriage, and he had unwittingly pushed the blame even further by being petty and ridiculous.

The fact remained however. There was so much left unsaid between the two of them. And if he was being absolutely honest with himself, he could admit that he still had feelings for Addison. How much, he wasn't sure. Even more, he could admit that he wasn't the perfect husband to her, especially during their last year of marriage. Since their divorce, sometimes his thoughts flitted through snippets of conversations he had with Addison in their last year. He had lost count of the number of times he had stood her up for dinner, forgotten important dates, shoved Mark in his place, and slept in on call rooms in favor of their comfortable brownstone. He had hurt her, too—maybe not as drastically she as she had him, but the pain was slow, burning, insidious, and cut just as deeply.

He knew now that a part of him would always love Addison. That he would never wish her ill, especially now that he had started working with her again and seen all the precise reasons he had fallen in love with her to begin with. But now, it was too early to tell exactly what he was feeling for her. He so often oscillated between hurt and kindness, love and disdain, that there was simply no way to make sense of exactly how he felt.

Whatever the case may be though, he had Meredith. Meredith had never cheated on him, and probably never would. He made a life for himself in Seattle, away from everything that reminded him of his past, and he was happy. Meredith symbolized everything that was new—the fresh start, the new beginning, the breath of fresh air he needed when he left New York. And he loved her so much for it. Whatever it was he felt for Addison, he concluded, just couldn't measure up to how he felt for Meredith right now. He missed Addison, as a friend, and perhaps that was what was eating him up. He realized, in the past 5 years, he had reduced Addison to only her affair, when she was definitely far more than that. And by reducing Addison to mere nothing, he had left a void in his person that could not be filled. Maybe he just needed to reconnect with her as a friend. It was probably high time to do so, anyway.

...

"Congratulations, Dr. Shepherd."

Derek looked up from his post-op notes and smiled, seeing Addison leaning against the counter.

"Congratulations, Dr. Montgomery," he teased with a grin. They were called in to do an emergency surgery on a 32-weeker with a brain tumor in her frontal lobe. It was part of their contract to see non-trial patients, and this particular patient was in such luck to have the best OB GYN and Neurosurgeons in the country under the same roof on the same day her tumor was discovered. Derek had successfully removed the golf ball sized mass, and Addison had successfully abated contractions and monitored the baby so she could carry to term.

"I didn't do anything," she reminded. "I just watched a monitor, while you did all the work."

Derek shrugged, taking his eyes off of Addison so he could continue his post-op notes. "How's the baby?"

"Baby's great. No signs of distress. We've got an intern monitoring through the night. But we pushed a dose of steroids anyway just in case she goes into preterm labor."

He nodded. "Hopefully none of that though."

"Yeah, hopefully," Addison answered absent-mindedly, eyes catching the sun from the picture window and suddenly missing her home in LA.

Derek glanced at Addison and followed her gaze. "You ok?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm good," she smiled. "Maybe it's cabin fever. If you don't need me for anything else, do you mind if I leave in a bit? Just want to catch the last of the sun before it's gone. We've been cooped up in the OR for the past 3 days, and I really just miss the sun."

"We went days without seeing the sun before," Derek teased. "California has changed you."

Addison shrugged. "I live by the beach now. I bring a bottle of wine to the deck and watch the sunset almost every night. This has been a real change of pace. I love it, I do, but you know... it's nice to be out in the sun sometimes."

Derek hummed. "Bizzy would argue against the sun," he reminded.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She paused and then, "Anyway, so do you need me still? Because I'd really like to catch a bit of Vitamin D. It's not right to be cooped up in the OR in the middle of the summer."

He turned his head towards her, stopping whatever it was he was doing. He studied her for a moment, noticing not for the first time just how different she was in a way that was so weird considering how much still the same, too. Addison never liked the sun, unless it was in the Hamptons. She always complained it would make her age. But the slight tan on her skin actually made her look so much younger, and he had to shake his head at that.

"What?" she questioned, brows furrowing in curiosity.

He shook his head. "Nothing," he replied. "How about I finish up here while you go take your walk. And then we go out to dinner tonight?" he suggested.

"Dinner?"

Derek nodded. "Yes, dinner."

"Just you and me?"

"Just you and me," he affirmed.

"What for?" she asked. They had never done anything outside of the hospital except walk back to the hotel. And she was almost sure there was a rule book that said ex-spouses could not have meals together outside of the confines of work.

"Just two friends celebrating a successful surgery," he answered.

Addison paused to consider this. "Was there some place you have in mind?"

"There is a place, actually," he smiled. "I heard the nurses talking about it."

"If the nurses are talking about it, then that must be a reservations-only place, and this is too spur of the moment for that, I think," she mused.

"How about you leave that up to me and just meet me at the lobby of the hotel at say, 6:30?"

Addison narrowed her eyes, not sure if it was a good idea to go out to dinner with Derek. Although he did say it was a dinner between friends, it felt an awful lot like a date at this point. "Derek..."

"Relax, Addie," he grinned, pulling a chart from the shelf. "Just... go with it, okay? Friends have dinner."

"Friends have dinner," Addison repeated slowly. "Okay," she sighed. "Is there a dress code?"

Derek shrugged. "Wear something nice," he said, flashing her a smile before walking away with the chart he pulled out.

Three hours later, Addison found herself in the lobby of their hotel, dressed in a seafoam green midi silk dress. The dress was fitted to her waist, the the neckline draped and gave onlookers a small peak of her cleavage. She had her hair down, and had done her make up lightly. She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard. She had strappy heels and a clutch bag, and a light coat draped on her right arm.

She always had a formal dress tucked in her suitcase whenever she traveled. Bizzy used to always say she had to be ready for anything. So it's not like she went out to buy anything new for this dinner with Derek. But she had to constantly remind herself that this was not a date as she dotted on some concealer and blush.

Before she could overthink things, the elevator dinged and out came Derek Shepherd in an Armani suit she was almost certain she had bought for him at some point during their marriage. That brought a small smile to her lips.

Derek caught sight of her as he exited the elevators, walking up to her with a big grin.

"You look great, Addison," he said, leaning in to kiss her lightly on the cheek and getting a whiff of her perfume. That was new. She used to be a Chanel kind of girl for special occasions, but tonight she smelled citrusy.

Addison blushed and accepted the compliment. "This suit still looks good on you," she answered.

Derek did a double take. "What?"

Addison shrugged. "I bought this for you for the Sinai charity gala spring of 2000. I'm glad to see that it still fits," she said.

Derek stared and then shook his head with a smile. "You're such a girl," he answered. "But I will say this... if you bought in 2000 and I still look great in it now, that only means your taste is timeless."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Addison chided, but she looped her arm as Derek held his out to her.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he corrected as they walked out of the hotel. There was a car waiting for them outside, and it was obvious Derek had already pre-arranged everything. They rode in comfortable silence until they alighted at a fancy looking Spanish restaurant.

"Spanish," Addison nodded approvingly.

Derek flashed her a grin. "I know you love tapas and sangria."

If Addison was surprised that Derek remembered, she didn't show it. Instead, she smiled at him and allowed him to lead her inside and to their table.

Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair. Derek talked about cases in Seattle, Addison talked about the practice. They reminisced over memories of medical school, thought of their friends like Sam and Naomi, and even made a quip or two about their own marriage. There weren't any awkward silences, any off-hand comments about the affair, or any trace of Mark or Meredith that evening.

To Derek, it felt like gaining an old friend back, reacquainting himself with the person who knew him the most on the inside, finding someone who understood him fundamentally for the first time in 5 years. He didn't have that in Seattle. Not even Meredith knew about things like Amelia and her addiction, about how his father died, about how he always wanted to be a high school biology teacher but his mother didn't approve. And to Addison? Dinner felt like coming home, like coming full circle. At this point, she wasn't even surprised anymore. Not by the way Derek ordered everything she loved at a Spanish restaurant, not at the Cabernet Sauvignon he chose (that was decadently similar to the one they served at their wedding), not by the way Derek made her feel like the only woman in the room. He had that effect on people, she knew it wasn't something that was special to just her. But tonight, she allowed herself to revel in the company of Derek Shepherd, free of any hurt or anger or betrayal. They were simply Addison and Derek, and it felt sublime.

After dinner, Derek suggested that they take a walk in a nearby park. And after such a heavy meal, Addison felt it was necessary. Derek helped her into her coat before she looped her arm around the one he offered as they made their way around the green.

"Tonight was lovely, Derek, thank you," Addison stated sincerely.

Derek nodded in agreement. "It was."

"I've nearly forgotten what an amazing friend you are," she teased. "You even footed the bill."

He laughed at that. "Well, I can afford more than Chinese take-out now," he answered, feeling light as he had the entire evening.

"Damn, those dumplings at that Chinese restaurant near Columbia—"

"The one with the really good chow mien?"

"Yes that one," Addison confirmed. "I wonder if they still taste as good. I mean, they probably tasted great for what they were worth because we were broke med students. I wonder if they're still good now that we can afford more," she joked.

Derek shook his head in amusement. "Addison, we just had so much tapas and sangria. I am so full. I don't know how you can think of food at this time."

She shrugged at that, smiling in response. "You picked a great restaurant."

"I'll have to thank the nurses then," he answered, matching Addison's languid pace as they kept walking. There was companionable silence between, both lost in thought. All of this was familiar. But more than it being familiar, it just felt good. It felt great to have someone with whom you can just be without pretense. Stripped of their histories, there was nothing to hide between the two of them, and they both knew that was a rare thing.

Addison's left arm was linked with Derek's right. Derek absently brought his left hand up to cup Addison's hand, the way they used to when it was cold in Central Park. His hand grazed over the bracelet Addison had on her left forearm, and without even looking, he realized what that bracelet was. It was a stiff gold bangle, with two tiny lilies engraved on the center. He knew that because he had it custom made for their 5th wedding anniversary.

Addison noticed where Derek's fingers had landed, and she realized she had worn a bracelet Derek had gifted her with while they were married. She blushed a little at that. She couldn't bring herself to get rid of anything he had given her. All the trinkets and bracelets and earrings and pendants he had given her from medical school and all through their marriage were still with her. The ones that had the most memories attached were hidden somewhere—she didn't need that reminder every day. Like her wedding rings. But the understated pretty ones, the ones that didn't make her throat feel tight, sat in her vanity along with the rest of her jewelry. She didn't realize she had packed this one and worn it tonight. But if she was a little embarrassed by the sentimentality of it, she wasn't going to show it.

"You kept it," Derek remarked, finally glancing at the bangle on Addison's delicate wrist.

She nodded slowly. "I did. It's pretty."

"It is pretty," he agreed, remembering how he had very specifically asked the jeweler to engrave the lilies, the kind Addison had in her wedding bouquet. "I'm just surprised you kept it."

Addison shrugged at that, but not pulling her hand away from Derek. "It's pretty," she repeated. "And I don't think I should deprive myself of pretty things."

Derek chuckled. "You shouldn't."

"So I don't," she answered obviously, looking up to meet his gaze.

He paused mid-step, letting his eyes get lost in Addison's gaze. They had stared into each other's eyes many times before. And he had gotten lost in hers more times than he can count. He had avoided looking too long while in DC for fear of the effect it would still have on him. But tonight, after such a pleasant evening, his hand resting lightly on her wrist, he allowed himself to look, really look.

He saw a mix of many things. Feistiness. Relief. A bit of fear. And more surprisingly, a bit of shame as well. He swallowed at that. Addison wasn't always easy to read, but having seen what he did in her eyes tonight, he knew there would be no other perfect time to talk.

"Addison," he started.

Addison swallowed, her stomach suddenly feeling heavy, weighted with lead. "Derek."

"I think..." he started again, clearing his throat. "I think that I'm finally ready to... listen."

She blinked. "Listen," she repeated dumbly.

He nodded in response. "I never gave you the chance to talk about... that night. At that time, it felt like it didn't matter. I saw what I saw. You did what you did. And there was no explanation in my head that could justify it," he explained earnestly. "And I guess, for the past 4 years, I kept that opinion. But now... now I think I'm ready to hear it."

There was something in her eyes again. A flicker of fear. Of incredulity. Of anger. Of sadness. She shook her head. "Derek, what's done is done. There's no need to rehash all of that. You're right—it doesn't matter. What would be the point?"

"I think it would give us both some closure," he reasoned.

She shook her head. "Closure was getting a divorce, Derek," she countered, feeling panicked. "It's like slamming a book shut real hard. That's what a divorce does. It closes a chapter. Heck, ours closed an entire book. It really isn't necessary to do a post-mortem on our marriage."

She tried to wring her hand out of his grasp but he was firm. Instead, he led her to a nearby bench and sat her down. He sat right next to her, her hand still clutched in his. He didn't understand what compelled him to be so adamant tonight, but he knew that if they didn't talk now, there would be no other time. They would never be as open or as generous as they were tonight.

"But there is," he maintained.

"Der, it's ancient history. You have Meredith. I have... my green juice. There's no point," she said as she shook her head, almost begging Derek to drop it.

"It matters to me," he insisted firmly, eyes pleading.

"Then you should have listened when it would have mattered," she snapped, pulling her hand from Derek's. She was suddenly breathing hard, her throat tight, heart beating faster than it should have after such a lovely evening.

Derek stared at her sadly, watching as her eyes started to water and as she valiantly willed the tears not to fall. He bit his lip. She was right—he should have listened back when it would have mattered more. This was a long overdue talk. But even if it wouldn't make much of a difference being that they were divorced, it still mattered now. At least to him.

He allowed Addison a moment or two to steady her breath. She didn't meet his eyes, and for a moment he didn't push. And then slowly, he took her hand again and held it gently between his. Addison's palm was warm, and it felt just as it did the thousands of times in the past that he held her hand in his.

"Derek," Addison sighed tiredly. "It doesn't matter," she insisted. "I'm glad you and I can even be friends at this point. That is what matters. To me. And that's what should matter to you, too. That we can move past all of that history and suddenly find ourselves on this road where we can actually be friends."

Derek nodded slowly in agreement. "I know but..." he sighed. He cast his eyes downward, on Addison left hand clutched in his, devoid of the rings he had put there to symbolize his undying love for her. The thought made him incredibly wretched, and he felt his chest tighten physically.

"I was absent," he started slowly softly. "Towards the end... I was absent."

Addison's gaze remained blank. They weren't looking at each other. But she bit her lip in response to that, feeling her tear ducts betray her yet again.

"And I was indifferent," he admitted quietly.

A pause, and then, "Yes," she answered him just as silently. She took a deliberate steadying breath, still not meeting Derek's gaze. "You were absent and you were indifferent," she repeated plainly.

Derek nodded, both of them finally acknowledging the hand he played in the downfall of their marriage. And then he waited. He knew Addison was thinking, calculating. She would talk, but she couldn't be forced. So he kept silent and waited for her to be ready.

After a heartbeat, she continued. "It wasn't... an obvious thing, at the start," she began, eyes fixed on the grass and lips turned down in a frown. "We were surgeons, and I understood more than anybody the hours you kept, how competitive the field was. I knew there would be nights you'd have to stay at hospital even if you weren't on call, and there would be dinners missed and whatever. I knew all of that. And at the start, I lived the same life, and I was willing to just let that season of our lives pass. I figured things would settle."

He nodded again mutely, signaling that he was listening.

"But then things did start to settle with my career, and I found that I could have a competitive career, be an excellent surgeon, but still have a life outside of the hospital. I was home more often, but you weren't. You just seemed to get busier and busier. And that was fine, honestly. I would plan my days around your days off so we could both be home at the same time, but you'd call in and let me know you weren't coming home because there was a patient you had to attend to. Towards the end, I don't think we even slept two nights a month on our bed together," she mumbled. And when they did, it was mostly habitual, like two housemates sharing a space. Addison even counted herself lucky if they had an argument, because it at least showed that they cared. But later on Derek was too tired to even argue, and just allowed Addison to simmer in her anger.

He kept silent. There was nothing he could say to that, knowing everything she was saying was true.

"And there were dinners. Dinners at home where I would stupidly try to cook something but you'd never show. Dinners with your family where I had to make an excuse about why the golden child wouldn't be able to come. Dinners with friends where I had to pretend I was fine. Dinners with Bizzy and the Captain where I had to insist like the Montgomery I was that I didn't need you to chaperone me to everything," she huffed.

He held her hand tighter. "Did you try to tell me?" he asked meekly. He already knew the answer before she started.

"Tried to tell you?" she asked with quiet incredulity. "Of course I did. Many times. But it was always not now Addison, I don't have time for this Addison, or can we talk about this later Addison?" She sighed. "And then you started missing anniversaries too. You missed our 10th one. I tried making that roast chicken that I remember you liking from our trip to Paris."

Derek lowered regretfully at that. "I didn't show," he concluded contritely.

"Mark came," she answered dryly, and he winced. "Mark came to our 10th anniversary and ate all the chicken which I knew wasn't even very good, but he felt bad about you missing it that he gobbled it down with copious amounts of wine," she finished blankly.

"Addison, I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "You missed my birthday, too. You remembered a week later."

Derek hung his head. He remembered that. He remembered not coming home for an entire week because one of his patients was completely unstable and would decompensate nearly every shift. He checked the calendar one day and realized a whole entire week had passed since his wife's birthday, and he had forgotten.

"You told me—"

"That I would make it up to you," Derek supplied shamefully. "I remember."

Addison sighed, feeling heavier and heavier as the conversation dragged on.

"But I didn't make it up to you," Derek finished lamely.

"We were going to the Hamptons for a weekend, you said it was to make up for missing it."

"But I was called in to do an emergency surgery and..." he shook his head. "I asked Mark to go with you instead. You didn't talk to me for a week."

Addison exhaled. "Yet you were so mad at me for not being understanding enough."

Derek grimaced, his head hung heavy as he continued fingering Addison's bracelet. "Did I... Did I push you to Mark?"

Addison whipped her head to stare incredulously at Derek. "Did you push me to Mark? Derek, no one pushed me to Mark," she answered a bit angrily. "Look, yes you shoved Mark in your place countless times, more times than you should have, but that didn't give me the right to screw him."

He shook his head dejectedly. She was right, but he couldn't help but feel that all those times he asked his best friend to sit in for him, he had actually paved the way for their indiscretion. "What else did I miss?"

"Derek we don't have to keep doing this," she answered, not wanting to continue down the road they were on.

"We do," he insisted. "Christmas? Did I miss Christmas?"

She exhaled again before she nodded slowly without a word.

"Did I at least remember to get you a present?" he tried to joke.

"You got me a gift card at Neiman Marcus," she answered, her tone flat and emotionless. Derek winced.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Honestly Derek, there's no point. There was never another surgeon who could do the surgery, never another doctor who could watch over your patient overnight. There was no one ever. Just you. Even if it didn't have to be. And while I was incredibly proud of your dedication to your patients, it came at the expense of our relationship, our marriage, and it happened without either of us realizing until it was too late."

They were quiet for a few moments, both of them thinking about the last few months of their marriage, how the cracks showed everywhere but neither of them were willing to admit they were there. Or he wasn't willing, but she was desperately trying to glue the cracks back together.

"And Mark?" he asked finally, his voice solemn.

"What about Mark?"

"That night... when I found you and him... you said he was just there."

Addison sniffed, feeling her eyes begin to water yet again. "He was just there."

Derek shook his head, knowing Addison was hiding something from him. Over the years, he had thought about that night. He had never pegged Addison to be impulsive. All her moves were calculated, well thought out. She was only ever willing to do anything reckless if she wasn't emotionally well. "I can't help thinking there's more to that," he admitted softly.

"There isn't."

"Addison," he warned tiredly.

"Derek," she countered.

"Addie, please. We're here. We're talking. We're listening. I want to know everything."

"You're not ready to know everything, Derek, trust me," she reasoned, inwardly begging Derek to just let the past be the past.

"You don't get to decide that," he said with a shake of his head. "That night, with Mark."

"Mark was just there," she reiterated firmly, taking her eyes off of Derek and staring straight ahead.

"What happened that day?" he asked, ignoring her.

"Derek, please." She bit her lip, finally unable to hold back as a few tears escaped her eyes. She sighed heavily. "You're not... it's a long story and I..."

"I'm here," he reassured her gently. "I wasn't there last time, but I'm here now and I'm listening now."

There was a long painful pause before she found the courage to continue. "Do you remember I told you... when I was 18, before I left for college... Archer threw this huge party at the house in Connecticut?"

Derek nodded, slowly feeling the bile rise from his gut. He knew about that party. He knew how that party ended. And he knew what Addison was about to say.

"You remember that I was... violated that night?" she said in a voice so small, he wanted to scoop her up in his arms right there and then.

He closed his eyes, nodding again. "I remember." How could he forget ever knowing that?

She licked her lips. "In med school, you remember—"

"We ran into that guy at a restaurant and you had a panic attack," he supplied for her. "I remember." It was one of the worst nights of his life. He could still picture Addison crying inconsolably, hysterical. He remembered being so helpless, unable to understand what had gotten her so riled up. When she finally calmed down enough, she relayed to him bits and pieces of the story— how it was one of Archer's friends, how she tried to stop him, tell him no, how she hadn't told a lot of people because the few people that she did tell didn't exactly believe her. By the end of the night he felt like he could kill someone. That guy in particular. When he first found out, Derek felt an immense need to protect her, to shelter her and reassure her that nothing was going to harm her ever again. She didn't deserve to go through that, to live in fear of running into him again and having the past come rushing back.

When Addison didn't speak, Derek continued. "I promised you... that you'd always be safe," he said, the emotion welling up in his voice. "That I would be there for you if he ever came back." There was silence before it suddenly dawned on him. "Addison."

She shook her head, knowing the exact moment the puzzle pieces slid in place in Derek's mind.

"Addison," he repeated, more forcefully this time, panic rising up in his throat. "You saw him again, didn't you?" When she didn't answer, he asked again. "Didn't you?"

Addison could only nod, not trusting her voice to speak.

"That day? That day with Mark?" he asked brokenly.

The tears were now falling swiftly from Addison's eyes, but she refused to meet his gaze. Instead, she nodded again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked sounding wounded, feeling his heart clench painfully at the thought of what Addison had gone through that day.

"What makes you think I didn't try?" she asked, pulling her hand from Derek's grasp and wiping angrily at her tears. "I tried. Numerous times. I called you so many times that day, had you paged more times than I could remember. But you were always too busy with a patient."

"Addie... I can't. I'm sorry, I—"

"I ran into him at the hospital. I was alone in the elevator and it opened on a floor and in he came. It was just the two of us."

"Addison!" he exclaimed with panic.

"He didn't try anything," she said quickly. "But I was so scared. He didn't acknowledge me, don't think he even recognized me, to be honest. But I knew it was him. I'd know that face anywhere," she shuddered. "By the time I stepped off the elevator, I was damn near exploding. And I called you. Many times. But I never got an answer."

"Addison, I'm so sorry," he replied, so remorseful that it physically pained him.

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter anymore," she reiterated. "Mark saw me leave. He followed me home when he realized I wasn't okay."

"Mark took advantage of you," he concluded assertively. His wife was in a fragile state and he took her to bed. In his mind, that was being taken advantage of.

She shook her head again. "I kissed Mark, Derek. I kissed him."

"He still shouldn't have—"

"I begged him to make me feel. Make me feel anything," she said through gritted teeth. "And you know Mark. You know how he makes people feel," she finished humorlessly.

Derek was breathing heavily, trying to comprehend everything he was learning about that day. Maybe in black and white, Addison still cheated. But there was context to it now, context he never bothered to know or understand. Because he never stayed long enough to listen. She had asked him to stay, told him that if he left, they would never survive it. But he ignored her, let his pride and his anger cover him as he kicked his hurting wife out in the rain. What kind of man did that? Addison was right that night—if he left, they would never survive. They didn't survive it. And he couldn't help but think that if he had stayed, bothered just a bit to ask why, they probably could have moved past it together.

He shook his head to bring himself back to reality, the shame overwhelming him as he took Addison's hands in his.

"Addison... there are no words..." he started, but not finding the right words to express the guilt he was feeling. "Addie," he begged, feeling his own tear ducts contract. "I'm sorry. I should have been there. I promised you I'd be there and I wasn't."

Addison sniffed, nodding her head. "I've already forgiven you, Derek, you don't have to apologize."

The surprised him. "Addie..."

"Look, Derek, no matter how you slice this, what I did was wrong. When you married me, you entrusted to me your heart so that I wouldn't break it. I made vows. I promised to love and cherish only you. But I broke that vow. So no matter what pushed me to do that, the fact remains. I cheated on you. I slept with Mark. Yeah, it would have been nice if you let me explain to you that night, but honestly at the end of the day, I cheated. I've forgiven you for whatever your role was in the breakdown of our marriage, for that night, and I hope one day you'll find it in your heart to forgive me too."

"Did you love him?" he asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Mark, did you love Mark? You said you broke your promise to love only me. Did you love him?"

Addison sighed, feeling a headache starting at her temples. "I thought I did. He meant so much to me because at some point, he was the only one I had. After you left, I stayed with him, because I didn't want to believe that I had thrown away my marriage for a one-night stand," she admitted. "But karma is a bitch because of course I caught him with a string of other women while I was with him," she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone.

"You stayed with him?" he asked tiredly. He wasn't sure if he was really surprised. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he probably figured that out already.

She snorted. "I did, stupid me. And so you can finally stop feeling bad and start hating me again—I got pregnant, Derek. Mark got me pregnant. That's the ugly truth. It hurts, but it's the truth. And then Richard called me, told me you were in Seattle. I knew I had to at least try to work things out with you. So I aborted the baby, got rid of it on my lunch break. And then flew to Seattle to try to salvage our marriage. I knew I owed it to you and to our marriage to try." But of course, Derek didn't give her that chance, didn't deem her worthy of it.

Derek was quiet, still trying to digest the news he had received. A rush of anger came as he thought of his wife pregnant with another man's child, but he trampled it down knowing he had no ground to stand on after everything he had put her through.

"But then I saw you with Meredith," she continued quietly. "You were smiling at her the way you used to smile at me. You were happy." She exhaled. "Derek, all I've ever wanted was for you to be happy. All of what we talked about? Water under the bridge. Because you have Meredith now. You have a life with her, and you're happy."

"Addie... I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "Like I told you, there's nothing to be sorry for at this point. The whole story doesn't excuse what I did, Derek. I hurt you badly. You didn't deserve that. No matter how alone I felt in our marriage, I still didn't have the right to screw your best friend."

He continued to stare at her hands in his, his mind still running a million miles an hour over everything he had just heard.

"I love you, Derek," she admitted quietly, sincerely, without thought for propriety simply because it was the truth. "I think a part of me always will. We had so many great memories as husband and wife, it doesn't have to end this way. I'm ready to move forward, as friends, if that's something you're still willing to try," she said, feeling uncharacteristically small. She wasn't sure Derek could look at her the same way after knowing the whole truth. Staying with Mark, the abortion, only picking up shop after finding out from Richard where Derek was. It all seemed like too much truth to even want to breathe the same air as her.

Derek exhaled heavily before pulling Addison into a tight embrace. He inhaled the scent of her hair, reveled in the feeling of her arms circling around him and holding on tightly. They had hurt each other so much, he wondered if it was even possible to be friends. Or if it was even worth the effort. But he knew in his heart he needed Addison in his life. In whatever capacity he could have her.

"I love you, too, Addie," he whispered against the top of her head. He hadn't said that in a while, hadn't shown it in a longer while. But there was no doubt in his mind that he loved her in some measure. "Of course I still want to be friends."

She laughed then, the sound muffled but watery from where her face was buried in the crook of his neck.

"I think," Derek said, pulling away a little. "That I need some time to process all of this."

"Of course," she nodded understandingly.

He gave her a sad smile. "Thank you... for being honest with me, Addison. I know how much that took."

She smiled at him through her tears. "Thank you for listening."

"I should have listened years ago," he admitted. "But I'm glad I listened now."

...

At the end of their two weeks, Addison and Derek shared a cab to the airport and parted ways at the gates. When Derek arrived in Seattle, the first person he thought to make contact with was Addison.

"Just got in," he texted. "Hope you made it safely."

Less than an hour later, as the cab was pulling into Meredith's driveway, his phone pinged.

"I missed LA," was her cheeky reply. "Glad to hear you made it safely. Have a good evening."

Derek smiled at that. This was the first time they'd ever made contact outside of the trial. The past few days had been exhausting. Their conversation still weighed heavily in his mind.

Everything he knew about the affair had turned topsy turvy. He always thought Addison was at fault for everything, and never realizing the proverbial flip side of the coin. But now that he knew what he knew, he felt immensely regretful and contrite. Their marriage didn't have to end the way it did. And he didn't have to live the past four years hating her. He kicked himself mentally. There was still so much that needed to be sorted out. He didn't know how all of that information fit into his new life. All he knew at that point was now that he had Addison back in his life, as a friend, there was no way he was letting her go again. He resolved to be kinder, and to be a better friend to her than he ever was even as a husband. Addison deserved so much more.

---

A/N: Thanks again for reading! Stay safe and wear a mask! :)