A/N: I hope you're all continuing to stay safe and well! Thank you so much for your kind reviews and messages! Writing this story has been such a great distraction for me, and it makes me so happy that other people are liking it as well. Initially, I envisioned this being a relatively short story (4-5 chapters tops), but it seems like this story has taken a different turn :)

Thanks so much for reading, and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Stay safe and have a great weekend!

There are no two ways about it, the cab ride back is awkward.

Just minutes ago, they were making progress – more progress than they'd made in years – but it came to a screeching halt.

They'd never been good at talking about their marriage. Never at the same time, at least. But, tonight, they were going to try.

Until their cab showed up.

And they're not about to pick up where they left off in front of their cab driver. And Addison reflects sadly that if history's any indicator, they likely won't pick up where they left off at all.

"Why did he think my last name was Montgomery?"

"What?" Addison blinks in surprise. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize Derek was muttering something to her.

"The patient's husband," Derek clarifies. "Robert. He kept calling me Dr. Montgomery, and I don't know why."

"Did you ever introduce yourself to him?"

"No, but you did."

"Exactly."

And Derek swallows thickly as realization dawns on him. Addison did introduce herself ... as Dr. Montgomery.

Admittedly, he's not used to that. He's used to not having to introduce himself—in a personal or professional capacity—when he's with Addison.

Dr. and Dr. Shepherd ... Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd ... Derek-and-Addison ... Addison-and-Derek.

They always just introduced each other when they introduced themselves – as if they were extensions of one another.

And he feels his face grow warm as he contemplates the troubling reality that maybe he never got used to Addison as just Addison.

In some ways, it makes sense. After their divorce, they almost never worked together. And it's not like they spent a lot of time together in non-work settings.

And then she moved away.

Still, they signed divorced papers. He spent months dating someone else. He should be used to just Derek and just Addison. And yet ...

"What'd you think?"

He looks at her in confusion, seriously hoping he hadn't just vocalized his thoughts out loud.

"About what?" he asks weakly.

"About being called Dr. Montgomery."

"Oh," he exhales in relief. "At first, it sounded weird. But it actually kind of grew on me. It has a nice ring to it."

"But you prefer Shepherd," she assesses knowingly.

"I do."

I did too. Of course, she doesn't say that out loud.

"Not that there's anything wrong with your last name," he says quickly when he sees her cast her eyes downward. "I'm just used to my last name."

"I was too."

That she does say out loud.

For a second, they just stare at each other; the light from the moon the only thing illuminating their silhouettes in the otherwise dark cab.

"Addison ..."

He doesn't know what else to say. Divorce is all about severing ties ... not worrying about the aftermath. He was able to do that in Seattle. He was able to be around her every day without contemplating, for even a second, the type of damage he'd caused her in the wake of their divorce. In all honesty, he didn't think he'd caused any. And if he did, then she deserved it.

But the truth is unavoidable here in the back of the cab. All the hurt and damage is out in the open. It's inescapable. And he feels the air grow heavy as he finds himself thinking about what it must have been like for her – what it's still like for her.

Correcting patients and doctors. It's Montgomery now. Just Montgomery.

Updating credit cards and important documents and statements.

Her career took off under his last name (their last name). She published papers under it, won awards under it, grew into the doctor and person she is today under it.

"Could you imagine if you actually did take my last name?" Addison asks, ripping Derek from his thoughts.

She says it lightheartedly, but neither of the them are fooled by it. She's breaking the tension. She knows it, and she knows he knows it.

"Your mother would kill you," she continues half-jokingly, half-seriously.

"She'd kill me," Derek agrees, an unexpected laugh escaping his lips as he thinks about his mother adding him taking Addison's last name to the ever-expanding list of things that kids do nowadays that she just simply doesn't understand.

"Your mother would kill me too," he chuckles. But he quickly grows serious.

There's no doubt in his mind that Bizzy would take issue with him taking Addison's last name. Bizzy wasn't exactly happy about welcoming him into the family to begin with; he can't imagine she'd be thrilled at the thought of sharing her last name with him.

But he's also keenly aware that Bizzy is the reason that he and Addison are in this situation to begin with. And he knows Addison is thinking the same thing.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I didn't mean to bring things back to Bizzy."

"All roads lead to Bizzy," Addison shrugs.

But maybe they don't have to.

"You were good with the patient today," Derek says, pivoting hard. "And her husband."

If there's one thing Bizzy can't take credit for, it's how good Addison is at her job.

"Clearly LA isn't having too much of a negative effect on you."

"I didn't operate," Addison points out. "I just examined the patient and ordered some tests. But for what it's worth," she continues, swallowing thickly, "if we had ended up operating tonight, I wouldn't have been upset."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said. And I stand by it. It wasn't an overly complicated procedure ... but I miss working with talented surgeons."

He raises an eyebrow. "The surgeons aren't good at your hospital in LA?"

"They're fine," she shrugs. "You're better."

He smiles broadly at the compliment. As he got better and better in his career, he spent less and less time watching other surgeons operate. And other surgeons spent more and more time watching him operate. And if he's being honest, he likes it that way. He likes being the one doing, not the one watching.

Except when it came to Addison. Watching her surgeries was different.

"Do you remember the case in Seattle with the quints?"

She blinks in surprise. "What about it?"

The tiny patient she lost? The lesson she tried to teach Izzie Stevens that was, by all counts, unsuccessful?

"The operating room," Derek says, cutting into her thoughts. "There were so many moving parts. So many doctors. Each baby had its own unique set of circumstances. And, of course, the mother was high-risk too. And you commanded everyone ... like a quarterback."

"A sports analogy, Derek?"

"What's wrong with a sports analogy? You and I both know you've been to enough Shepherd family get-togethers and have sat through enough footballs games to understand it."

She shrugs. "I know enough to know that the quarterback's the best-looking player on the field."

"That's what you want to be known for?" he challenges. "Being the best-looking doctor in the OR?"

Her cheeks flush at that, and she's grateful that it's too dark in the cab for him to notice. My wife's the most beautiful person in the room ... in any room. That's what he used to say to her.

"What's wrong with being the best-looking?" she defends. "Especially when you already established that I was the most competent doctor in that OR."

"I did not say that."

"You essentially did," she disagrees.

"What I meant," Derek chuckles before growing serious, "is that I miss watching you operate."

"You work at a major hospital," Addison points out. "The surgeons there are talented."

"The surgeons there are fine," he shrugs, borrowing her language. "You're better."

It's true. He works at a very good hospital. And he performs and watches other doctors perform life-saving, miracle surgeries on a regular basis.

But if he's being honest, it's been a while since he's been blown away by another doctor in the OR. And if he's being really honest, the last time it happened was with Addison and the quints case.

"I can't remember if I told you, but ..." he pauses, meeting her eyes in the dark cab, "you were incredible in there that day ... with the quints case."

She nods silently, accepting the compliment, not commenting on whether he'd said something to her back in Seattle. She doesn't need to, though. He knows from her silence that he didn't.

He's about to press the issue, when a scruffy voice from the front seat cuts it.

"Is this the place?"

Both he and Addison look up in surprise.

"Uh, yes," Addison nods. "It is. Thank you."

She moves to retrieve her wallet to pay the driver, but he's faster.

"I've got this," he insists.

"Thanks," she says.

They get out of the cab in silence and start walking toward the house.

"So much for dinner," he muses after a moment.

"I know," she agrees. She checks her watch. "I don't think most places are even open now."

"Probably not."

They're approaching the front door, and she feels her pulse quicken. When they walk through the door, things will be different. They won't be alone anymore. And Derek won't be willing to listen to her the way he'd been listening to her. He won't be willing to talk to her the way he'd been talking to her.

Once they go inside, he'll be defending himself against Nancy's jabs. He'll be laughing with Weiss. Catching up with Savvy.

Now's her chance. If she wants to say something to him—and wants him to listen—it has to be now.

"Derek, wait."

He turns to look at her, his expression open.

And she finds herself swallowing roughly.

No anesthesia.

"Before ... outside the hospital, you asked about New York, and all the extra surgeries you took on ... and ... you asked whether I liked it."

She pauses cautiously, gauging his response. He doesn't look angry on indifferent. He's not shooting her an exasperated look and saying, 'Not now, Addison' or 'Can we talk about this later?'.

He's listening intently, silently urging her to go on.

"I didn't like it," she admits, her eyes still searching his face. "Your career is so much of who you are, and I love that about you." She blushes brightly. "Loved that about you," she amends. "I just ... I missed my husband. I missed coming home after a long day of work and curling up on the couch together. I missed falling asleep and waking up next to you. I even missed the little things ... drinking coffee together in the mornings ... drinking scotch and wine at night ... going to work together ... fixing the collar of your jacket." She swallows roughly, doing her best not to let the memories of what they once had—and what she foolishly threw away—overwhelm her. "And I know that doesn't make what I did –"

But she cuts herself off because he's looking at her with an intensity that she recognizes, but hasn't seen in a long time.

And suddenly he's leaning in, and so is she. And he's kissing her and she's kissing him back. Her hands tangle in his hair, and he wraps his arms around her waist. And she gasps when he pushes her against the side of the house to get more leverage.

Somewhere in the back of her brain, she knows this is a bad idea. He moved on. She's supposed to be moving on. But with the way he was looking at her, and the way his lips feel on hers, there's no way she's about to stop.

Besides, they're only kissing. And that's harmless.

Except it's not.

They ended their first date with a kiss. They began their marriage with a kiss. Monumental moments in their lives have been marked by kisses.

But right now, she can't worry about that. Because it feels so good to be kissing Derek again. To be in his arms again.

His kisses intensify and he presses her up against the house more forcefully. It'll probably leave marks tomorrow, but she doesn't care.

She'll worry about tomorrow later. Right now, all she wants to do is turn her brain off and enjoy the moment.

So she does.

So much so that she doesn't hear the front door open. Neither of them do, actually.

"What the hell's going – oh my god."

"Nancy," Derek pants as he and Addison pull away from each other, both of them breathing heavily. "What are you doing?"

"I heard noise coming from outside," Nancy explains innocently. "I thought it was an animal or something."

"And you decided to check it out?" Derek raises an eyebrow. "You hate nature."

"Yeah, so?" Nancy shrugs primly. "Just because I'm not outdoorsy, like you are, doesn't mean I'm incapable of scaring away the occasional wild animal or two."

"Nancy, would you just ...?" Derek begs through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Nancy says quickly. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll go back inside. Just ... you two aren't as good at being quiet as you think you are. You never have been. Even after all this –"

"Nancy, did you figure out what that noise was?" another voice interrupts.

"Of course," Derek mutters to himself as Weiss joins Nancy in the doorway, flanked by Savvy and John.

Nancy shoots Derek an amused look before turning her attention to Weiss. "Look who just got home," she grins, gesturing toward Addison and Derek.

"Was everything okay at the hospital?" Savvy asks as she scans Addison and Derek closely. "Are you two okay?" she asks in concern.

"We're fine," Addison answers quickly. "And the patient's going to be fine too."

"We think," Derek amends.

"She'll be fine," Addison insists.

"I'm glad you guys were there," Savvy says.

"Yeah," Weiss agrees. "You two must be exhausted. Come on, Dr. Shepherd," he says, ushering Derek inside, while Savvy fusses over Addison. "Let me get you a drink."

"I won't say no to that," Derek chuckles. "And ..." he trails off, a slight smile coming to his face, "it's Montgomery."

"What?" Weiss looks at his friend in confusion; and Addison's ears perk up at that too.

"It's Montgomery," Derek repeats.

And even though Addison can't see Derek's face, she can tell he's smiling.

"It's a long story," Derek continues cheerily. "I'll tell you about it inside."