A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! And what better way to celebrate than with an Addek Thanksgiving story! I realized that as much as I love writing Addek holiday stories, I've never written an Addek Thanksgiving story, which is funny because Thanksgiving is hands-down my favorite holiday. I cut it close to the wire, but I'm thrilled I was able to write and post something.
This story takes its title from the song "Shallow" from A Star is Born. I hope you like the story, and as always, thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Happy Thanksgiving!
And in the Bad Times I Fear Myself
"How did we end up here?" Addison spears some lo mein with her chopsticks and turns to Derek.
He shrugs in response and steals some lo mein off her plate. "I don't know," he admits. "But I wouldn't overthink it."
She nods halfheartedly and sets her plate of Chinese food aside.
"This feels right, though," Derek continues, sinking deeper into Addison's comfortable hotel bed. "You know?"
She does know. Him … her … eating Chinese food together on Thanksgiving.
It does feel right … and also very wrong. But, mostly, it just feels confusing.
Which brings her back to her original question—how did they end up here?
They've been divorced for months. And, yet, somehow they came to Manhattan separately for Thanksgiving, and ended up bailing on their original plans so they could spend the holiday together in her hotel room, eating Chinese food. Just like old times … kind of.
Maybe it's inevitable that things ended up this way. Maybe it's one of those things that are beyond explanation. But deep down, she knows it's not. And if she's being honest with herself, she knows exactly how they got here.
Tell me somethin', girl,
Are you happy in this modern world?
"I thought that was you."
Addison looks up from her scotch in surprise and turns toward the familiar voice approaching the bar.
"Derek?"
He gives her a warm smile and a peck on the cheek, which takes her completely by surprise, considering the last time they were together, he pretty much pretended she didn't exist.
"I didn't know you were spending Thanksgiving in New York," he continues as he sits down on the barstool next to hers and orders himself a scotch. "I just assumed you'd be spending the holiday with friends in LA."
Addison shrugs. LA was an option. Sam and Naomi had invited her to spend Thanksgiving with them and Maya. But Addison's messy, painful divorce was still fresh, and the last thing she needed right now was to spend Thanksgiving around a civil, somewhat functional divorced couple.
"So what are you doing in New York?" Derek presses.
"I'm spending Thanksgiving with Bizzy and the Captain," Addison answers with as much neutrality as she can muster.
Derek's eyes widen in surprise and he can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips. "Really?" he asks, growing serious.
She shrugs.
"But wh—"
But he cuts himself off. Because he knows why.
"How's LA?" he asks, changing his approach and broaching the situation from a different, more neutral angle.
"It's great," Addison gushes, flashing him a thousand-watt smile.
She regrets it immediately. She knows there are many people she can deceive with an overly enthusiastic response and a wide smile, but her ex-husband is not one of them.
"It's really great," she continues more neutrally. "With, um, the beach and the surfing and the aromatherapy candles."
He raises an eyebrow and looks mildly impressed. "Surfing? You surf?"
"No." She shakes her head. "I don't."
He nods and she can see the sense of satisfaction on his face. He called her bluff.
"I don't light aromatherapy candles either," Addison confesses, coming clean before he has the chance to catch her in another mistruth. "I mean, I tried once."
"And …?"
Addison rolls her eyes. "They gave me a headache. I had to call in sick to work the next day."
A hearty laugh escapes Derek's lips, and Addison has to admit she's missed the sound.
"I do like the beach though," Addison continues … just so Derek knows that not everything that came out of her mouth was a lie.
"And yet …" Derek trails off, gesturing around them, "you're spending Thanksgiving here in New York, and not there."
"I needed a change."
"I thought LA was supposed to be your change."
"I—"
"Tell me something," Derek whispers, his voice so low she has to lean in close to hear him. "Are you happy with your life in LA?"
"What?" Addison asks in surprise.
When they were married, Derek couldn't be bothered with her. Now he's apparently concerned about her happiness.
"I don't see how that's any of your business," she recovers.
"I didn't think you were happy," he whispers. Once again, his voice is low and she has to lean close—close enough to smell his Tom Ford cologne … close enough to feel his breath against her cheek—to hear him.
She swallows thickly, refusing to get caught up in some convoluted mixture of familiarity, loneliness, and Derek's charm.
"What makes you think I'm not happy?"
"The fact that you're in New York for starters," Derek says easily. "And the fact that you're spending Thanksgiving with your parents instead of Savvy and Weiss."
"I didn't want to bother—"
"You could never bother Savvy and Weiss," Derek interrupts. "But you know that if you spend Thanksgiving with them, it'll take them all of two seconds to see that you're not happy. And unlike you're family, who'll let you drown your unhappiness in alcohol, Savvy and Weiss will make you talk about it."
"Derek, I'd hardly—"
"But do you want to know how I really know you're not happy?" he whispers, leaning in close and not waiting for an answer. "It's because I know you."
She wants to disagree. She wants to insist that he used to know her. But she knows it's not true. And she's not sure whether it's her inability to disagree with him or if it's being back in New York with him or if it's something completely different, but she finds herself leaning in closer.
"I want more," she admits vulnerably. "Whatever I was chasing … it's not in LA."
She thinks of Naomi and Sam's practice—and the two patients she sees a day. And she thinks of Pete—and the promise of a relationship that's remained just that … all talk and no action.
"Or maybe I was chasing the wrong things completely," she sighs.
He gives her a soft smile and puts his hand over hers. "I know the feeling."
"Meredith?" she asks knowingly.
Derek looks at her in surprise and removes his hand.
"Come on, Derek. It's pretty obvious that you're flying solo. So … were you chasing the wrong thing too?"
"Yeah," Derek sighs. "Meredith … Seattle … all of it, actually."
"Well, that's remarkably self-aware of you," Addison snipes. But when she sees the look of hurt in his eyes, she immediately regrets it. "Sorry."
Derek shrugs. "I probably deserve it."
"Maybe," Addison agrees. "Still …" She studies him closely. "Are you in town for Shepherd family Thanksgiving?" she asks, changing the subject.
Derek nods. And Addison swallows roughly. She's been to her fair share of Shepherd family Thanksgivings over the years—a welcome change from her own family's Thanksgivings.
Unlike her family Thanksgivings, which are stiff and formal, Thanksgivings with the Shepherds always had a cozy feel. Everything was homemade and everyone helped out. Of course, Carolyn never trusted her with anything more than peeling potatoes … but still.
"To be honest, I wouldn't mind skipping Thanksgiving this year," Addison admits.
And to her surprise, Derek's hand finds hers again. "Yeah," he whispers, meeting her eyes. "Me too."
xxx
"I guess if we're going to over-analyze things," Derek says, getting up off the bed and pouring two glasses of champagne. "You're the reason we ended up here tonight."
"Me?" Addison asks in surprise. She accepts the glass of champagne from Derek and quirks an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that's true."
"Of course it's true," Derek insists, tapping his glass of champagne against Addison's. "You were the one who first mentioned skipping out on Thanksgiving."
"True," Addison concedes. She takes a long sip of her champagne and gives Derek a mischievous smile. "But you didn't exactly disagree."
"No," Derek chuckles, sipping at his own champagne and smiling at the way his ex-wife's eyes sparkle. "I guess you're right."
Tell me somethin', boy,
Aren't you tired tryin' to fill that void?
Addison looks at her ex-husband in surprise. "I understand me wanting to skip Thanksgiving. But you …?" She looks at him closely. "Why?"
Derek shrugs, "I just do."
Addison eyes him suspiciously. "Why'd you come back then?"
"I don't know."
Addison looks at him skeptically, and Derek can tell she doesn't believe him. Feigning ignorance may work on a lot of people, but not on her.
"You could have said you had to work," she points out. "So," she whispers, leaning in closer. "Why'd you come back?"
He could lie. Or tell a half-truth. Except he can't. Not to her.
"Because," he whispers, meeting her eyes. "Because I wanted something familiar."
She swallows thickly, unsure how to respond.
"I booked a one-way ticket," Derek confides.
He hadn't meant to share this with Addison … or anyone. But the words tumble from his lips before he has time to think about what he's saying.
Addison looks thoughtful, and Derek can tell she's turning his words over in her head.
"Then what?"
Derek looks at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Addison shrugs. "I was just wondering what you're going to do when New York loses its appeal. When something familiar becomes boring?"
"You don't know—"
"I do know," Addison insists. "It happened with me … it happened with Seattle. It's only a matter of time before it happens again." She looks at him, her eyes earnest. "Does it get exhausting?"
He should be offended or angry … or, at the very least, irritated. But he's not. And to his surprise, he feels relieved.
Moving from place to place … throwing himself further and further into work … trying to fill this emptiness inside him that he's starting to believe was self-imposed.
"Does it get exhausting?" he asks, echoing her question. He meets her eyes and gives her a sad smile. "Like you wouldn't believe."
He's not sure who leaned in first. Truth be told, they'd been leaning in all evening. But now he's leaning in and she's leaning in. And he's kissing her and she's kissing back.
"Do, uh, do you want to get out of here?" he breathes. Things are becoming less PG by the second and he's not sure how much more he can take before the two of them end up in a truly compromising position.
"Yeah," Addison whispers, her hot breath tickling his ear.
He doesn't know which one of them paid the bar tab. (She did).
And he doesn't remember which one of them hailed a cab. (That was also her).
He assumes she must have given the cab driver directions since, at that time, he had no idea where she was staying.
And he's not sure who paid the cab driver. (That was him).
And it's not because they're drunk. Far from it. They're both only one glass of scotch in. Technically, they're both in a place where they should be thinking clearly.
But with him-and-her there's no such thing as thinking clearly … especially when their personal lives are in shambles.
That's why she attacks his lips with hers the second the elevator door closes. And that's why he throws her onto the bed the second the hotel door shuts behind them. That's why they tear at each other's clothes, unable to undress each other fast enough.
And that's why it's unsurprising he can't remember the mundane details –who paid for what and how exactly they got to her hotel.
Because as they lay together in her hotel bed, wrapped in each other's arms, the mundane details simply don't matter.
"Spend Thanksgiving with me?" Derek murmurs, kissing her softly.
She pulls back in surprise. "What?"
"Spend Thanksgiving with me," Derek repeats, pulling her back into his arms.
"Derek, we're … we can't."
"Yes we can."
"No. Derek. We can't." She swallows roughly. "We're divorced. What will people say?"
"Nothing," Derek smirks, kissing her bare shoulder.
She looks at him skeptically.
"They can't say anything if we spend Thanksgiving here," Derek points out, holding her close. "Just you and me."
"Here?" Addison looks around. "As in my hotel room?"
Derek shrugs. "Yeah."
Addison opens her mouth to object, but quickly thinks better of it. And her lips curl in a mischievous smile. "I hope you're not expecting me to host."
Derek chuckles. "I'm not expecting you to host." He gives her a playful wink. "You don't even have to wear clothes."
"Derek," Addison scolds. But they both know she's not mad.
"We'll order room service," Derek reassures.
"Chinese food," Addison corrects.
A wide smile spread across Derek's face. Thanksgiving, Chinese food, and Addison.
"We'll order Chinese food," he agrees. "Just like old times. So …" he breathes, running his hand through his ex-wife's hair. "Are you in?"
She looks pensive—like she's seriously weighing her options—but he knows it's an act she's putting on. And it's only confirmed when she kisses him softly.
"I'm in," she murmurs. "Just this once."
xxx
"I may have been the one who first mentioned skipping Thanksgiving," Addison points out. "But you were the one who suggested spending it here."
Derek chuckles and pulls her into his lap on the bed, and fiddles with the ties of her terrycloth robe. "I may have suggested it," he agrees. "But you didn't object."
Quite the opposite, actually. They wasted no time calling their respective families and bailing on Thanksgiving.
Both families were, of course, disappointed. Addison's family was upset because her absence threw off the seating arrangements. And Derek's family was disappointed because his absence at family events was becoming all too common a thing. Nancy even went so far as to say that this never happened when Addison was in the picture. And Derek, of course, let this comment slide.
"Do you regret it?" Derek asks as he gently rubs her shoulders. "Spending Thanksgiving together?"
She might. In a day or a week … or some time down the line, she probably will. But not tonight.
"No," she murmurs, turning in his arms and kissing him softly.
"Good." He smiles against her lips. "Me either."
It's not the smart thing to do, and it's certainly not the grownup thing to do. But, right now, she doesn't care. She spends most of her professional life doing smart, grownup things.
And tonight she wants a break from that. Tonight she needs a break.
It may be a mistake—her and Derek. Or maybe it's just things falling back into place. In any case, she supposes she'll never know.
Just this once she told him.
So, she better make tonight count.
But the way he's holding her, and the way he's kissing her, and the way he's touching her makes something inside her go rogue.
"Derek," she pants in between heated kisses. "Derek?"
They struggle for a moment until she finally pulls backs. His eyes are dark with desire, and she can't help smiling as she tucks a matted curl behind his ear.
"Derek?" she breathes, leaning in closer.
"Yeah?" he whispers breathlessly.
"What are you doing for Christmas?"
A wide smile forms on his face and he kisses her deeply. And she knows she has her answer.
She has to admit she's satisfied. He may have been the one to ask about Thanksgiving, but she's the one who asked about Christmas.
Maybe it makes no sense. Or maybe it makes perfect sense. There's only one way to find out.
She may be lost, and he may be lost. They both need more—that much is obvious.
And as they spend their first Thanksgiving as a divorced couple wrapped in each other's arms, they can't help thinking that together they may be able to find what they're missing. They may be able to put their lives back together.
And if they can't … well, it's still better than being alone.
xxx