A/N: Happy Holidays! I really wanted to post an Addek Christmas story—it's their season, after all! And I got a lot of really nice reviews and messages asking me to continue this story. So I took a shot at it. Much like my Thanksgiving story, it came down to the wire. I'm actually heading out the door for Christmas Eve plans as soon as I finish posting this.

I hope you have a merry Christmas and a wonderful Holiday season. Thanks so much for all your kind feedback on my stories this year; I so appreciate it!

Falling

Tell me somethin', girl

"There's nothing quite like New York at Christmas time, is there?"

Addison looks up at the overly cheerful flight attendant and nods impassively.

The flight attendant isn't wrong. New York at Christmas is magical.

But Addison has no plans of having the typical New York Christmas. She's pretty sure she won't even leave her hotel room.

Derek's hotel room, actually.

It's only fair. She paid for Thanksgiving. And they're nothing if not equal in every way.

"Are you visiting family?"

Addison blinks in surprise and redirects her attention to the flight attendant who's looking at her expectantly.

"Friends?" The flight attendant tries again when Addison meets her first question with silence.

"Kind of," Addison shrugs.

Her relationship with Derek defies labels. At one point he was her family. At one point he was her best friend. And the ex is supposed to cancel all that out.

But clearly that's not the case.

"Well, I hope you have a good time," the flight attendant says, giving Addison an overly enthusiastic smile.

"Thank you," Addison nods. "I will."

Of this much she's certain.

xxxxx

"Last name?"

Addison winces at that. "The reservation's under Shepherd," she tells the young man behind the hotel check-in desk.

"Oh, yes," the man smiles. "Your husband already checked in."

"Oh, he's not ..."

"What's that?" the man cuts in pleasantly, leaning in closer so he can hear her better.

"Nothing," Addison smiles. "Never mind."

It's none of his business anyway.

The man slides a piece of plastic across the desk. "Your husband left this for you."

Addison accepts the keycard and smiles her thanks.

"Room 2212."

"Thank you," Addison nods.

The same room as Thanksgiving.

"Do you need someone to help you with your bags?"

"No, I—"

"Addison?"

Addison turns at the unmistakable voice. There's only supposed to be one unmistakable voice this weekend. And this voice doesn't belong to him.

"What are you doing here?"

She's trying to think of a response, but even if she had one, she wouldn't be able to get it out. She's wrapped too tightly in Savvy's hug to speak.

"LA looks good on you," Savvy gushes when she finally releases her friend. "What are you doing in New York anyway? And why didn't you call me?"

"I should have called," Addison apologizes. "We weren't planning on seeing anyone."

"We?" Savvy raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Me," Addison amends quickly.

"Just you?" Savvy asks, narrowing her eyes. And Addison can tell Savvy isn't buying what she's selling. Not for a second.

"And Derek," Addison confides as neutrally as she can. "I'm meeting Derek here."

"Oh!" Savvy's eyes widen with delight. "Wait, does that mean ... Are you two back together?"

"No. We're ..." Addison trails off, unsure how to respond. Again trying to define the undefinable. "We're just two adults spending the holidays together."

"Holidays?" Savvy quirks an eyebrow.

"Christmas," Addison amends.

"Addison," Savvy frowns. "Don't bother trying to lie to me. I've known you too long."

"Fine," Addison chuckles. She lowers her eyes and averts Savvy's gaze. "We spent Thanksgiving together too."

"That's fantastic," Savvy approves, sounding genuinely supportive. "Addison, that's really good."

"And Black Friday," Addison mumbles, her cheeks tinging red. "We spent Black Friday together too. But only because it's the day after Thanksgiving and we were both—"

"Addie, I'm not judging."

"You will," Addison insists. "He also came to LA for Hanukkah."

"Hanukkah?" Savvy laughs.

Addison nods in embarrassment.

"But you and Derek aren't—"

"I know."

Savvy shakes her head in amusement. "I'm still not judging, Addison."

"Really?" Addison looks at her friend in surprise. "You're not?"

"No." Savvy wraps a reassuring arm around her friend. "With the way your marriage ended ... it's unsurprising that something like this happened. We were all betting on something like this going down in one way or another."

"We?"

"Well, me. And Weiss. And maybe Nancy."

"Nancy?" Addison asks in surprise. "When did you and Nancy talk about my marriage?"

"I ran into her at the nail salon a few weeks ago," Savvy shrugs. "And it just sort of came up."

"Savvy, you've got to do me a favor," Addison says, giving her friend a pleading look. "Don't tell anyone I'm here. Or about me and Derek."

She knows she sounds childish. She knows nothing good ever comes from clandestine relationships. But, then again, this isn't a relationship. She and Derek are ... well, she still hasn't worked through that yet.

"I won't say anything," Savvy reassures, patting her arm gently. "But, Addison, you and Derek are both adults. And what you're doing isn't hurting anybody."

Addison nods in concession. It certainly isn't hurting anyone. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Like I said," Savvy continues, "you and Derek are both adults. And how you choose to spend the holidays, or a random Wednesday, for that matter ... that's your business."

Addison swallows thickly. Savvy's right. Savvy's always right.

"A random Wednesday," Addison chuckles. "I don't think—"

But she's cut off by the sound of her cell phone ringing.

"That's Derek," she says, glancing down at her phone.

Savvy gives her a smug look that communicates more than words ever could. And Addison meets Savvy's wordless look with her own silent gesture—a small shrug that tells Savvy everything she needs to know.

Yes, Derek calls. Derek—who never came home in New York and who pretended she didn't exist in Seattle—calls. He calls her more than he texts her, in fact. In this new world they're living in, it's apparently his preferred mode of communication.

"From where I'm standing, I'd say a random Wednesday isn't as out of the question as you seem to think," Savvy smirks.

"I should probably go," Addison says, glancing at her phone and purposefully ignoring Savvy's comment.

"You probably should," Savvy agrees. "Merry Christmas, Addison," she says, wrapping her friend in another warm hug. "Have some fun," she whispers. "You deserve it."

Addison nods mutely as she hugs her friend tightly. She almost forgot what it's like to have someone on her side. Admittedly, it feels good. A welcome change from Seattle.

"Um, Savvy," she begins when they break apart. "I just realized I never asked what you're doing here."

Savvy chuckles. "Weiss and I come here every Christmas."

"Oh," Addison nods, deciding to leave it at that when she sees the twinkle in her friend's eyes.

"Don't get me wrong," Savvy continues. "Spending the holidays with family is nice. But holiday getaways with just your husband are highly necessary." She gives Addison a playful wink. "I'm glad you and Derek are finally catching on."

I'm off the deep end

His lips are on hers before the hotel room door even closes.

It's like those times when they were engaged or married and one of them had just returned from a conference.

Except they're not engaged or married. They're divorced.

He pulls back from a heated kiss, meets her eyes, and smiles. "Hi," he whispers.

And just like that, her lips are back on his.

He pushes her down on the bed and quickly climbs on top of her. And they make short work of discarding each other's clothes.

This time, she's the one to pull back.

"Derek," she murmurs as he continues to kiss her frantically. "Derek?"

"Hmm?"

She meets his eyes and gives him a soft smile. "Merry Christmas."

Watch as I dive in

They spent Thanksgiving in bed ... coming up for the occasional bite of Chinese food or glass of champagne.

She kind of figured Christmas would work the same way. But when she sees Derek fussing over the bare Christmas tree in the corner of the room, it's clear that this isn't the case.

"I can't believe they let you bring this into the hotel," Addison says, joining Derek by the barren tree.

He shrugs. "I tipped the staff here very well."

"How very Bizzy Montgomery of you."

Derek chuckles. "Did you bring the ornaments?" he asks, growing serious.

She nods and unzips her suitcase.

He brought the tree. She brought the ornaments.

Neither is much good without the other. But together ... together they create Christmas magic.

Together, they make sense.

She hadn't paid much attention to which ornaments she'd packed. But now she wishes she would have. Because she would have packed generic ones—ones that don't have memories attached to them. Like shiny silver and gold balls. Those ornaments are as generic as they come.

But she didn't pack those. She packed the bride and groom ornament—from their first Christmas as a married couple. And she brought the brownstone ornament—from their first Christmas in the brownstone. The stethoscope ornament that they bought when they both landed attending jobs. And a boat ornament—from the time they went to the place with boat.

A marriage told through ornaments.

She sees Derek examining some ornaments closely, as though he's never seen them before.

"Those are from our last year together in New York," Addison explains gently. You were never home to see them. That's what she doesn't say.

Of course, neither states the painfully obvious—that there are no ornaments from the last year of their marriage ... from Seattle.

"We'll get some ornaments for next year," Derek says resolutely.

"Next year?" Addison raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I just assumed ..." He runs a hand through his hair, his eye growing soft, "Christmas makes you want to be with the people you—"

"Stop."

She says it so forcefully that Derek blinks in surprise. But she can't let him complete that sentence. He'll literally destroy her if he does.

"Don't say that. Not to me."

"But I—"

"Derek, no," Addison insists. She can feel a lump forming in her throat. Her body is shaking. And Savvy's words are ringing in her head: what you're doing isn't hurting anybody. Well, now she's hurting.

"This was a bad idea, Derek."

"What?" Derek looks at her in confusion. "You didn't think it was a bad idea when we spent Thanksgiving together."

"That was different. I was upset."

"Well, you didn't mind spending Black Friday together. And I believe you were the one who invited me to Hanukkah."

"Yeah, but this is Christmas." Addison sighs. "Christmas, Derek. Our season."

"I know. And it was your idea to spend it together," he points out. "Not that I'm objecting," he adds quickly.

"I know it was my idea." She swallows roughly. "And I want to spend Christmas with you. I do. I just ... I figured we'd have sex the whole time."

Derek chuckles. "I mean, I wouldn't say no to that." He runs his hand through his hair. "I just … I thought we could do some actual Christmas things too. Like old times."

But it's not like old times. It couldn't possibly be.

Sex is easy. If they're having sex, she's not being slapped in the face with Christmas memories. She's not remembering what Christmas used to be like or wondering what Christmas could have been like.

Christmas past, Christmas present, Christmas future. She needs to stay firmly in the present.

"You're overthinking this," Derek insists, a twinkle in his eyes as he moves toward her.

Addison blinks. "Maybe you're under-thinking it."

"Maybe," Derek shrugs, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest. "That's why I have you. To balance things out."

She swallows roughly. She could fight him on this. She could remind him that they're divorced and he doesn't have her.

But it's Christmas and they're spending it together—so that statement is only partially true. Plus, she doesn't feel like fighting with him. It's Christmas, after all.

So instead, she extricates herself from her ex-husband's arms and makes her way toward the minibar.

"Champagne?"

She holds up a sleek bottle, and he nods as he walks toward her.

"Here," she says, handing him a champagne flute and pouring a glass of champagne for herself.

"Hey, Addison?" Derek says, raising his champagne flute in her direction.

"Yeah?"

"Merry Christmas, Addie."

She gives him a small smile and lightly taps her champagne flute against his. "Merry Christmas, Derek."

And as they drink, she can't help thinking that this Christmas—however complicated it may be —is already infinitely better than their last Christmas in Seattle. And the Christmas before that one.

"Uh, Addie ..." Derek begins, his eyes remorseful. "About last Christmas ..."

She looks at Derek in surprise, trying to figure out if she had accidentally voiced her thoughts out loud.

"I'm sorry, Addison," Derek apologizes. "For last Christmas. What I said was wrong … and hurtful. I was cruel … and not finished hurting you back."

"Clearly," Addison mutters.

Derek's eyes dim. "I deserve that."

"I'm sorry about New York." The words tumble from her lips before she has time to think about what she's saying.

"You already apologized for New York," Derek says gently. "In Seattle. A number of times."

"It didn't do much," Addison shrugs. "You didn't forgive me."

"I didn't," Derek admits. "Not in Seattle, at least." He gives her a reconciliatory smile and tops off their champagne. "I'm really sorry about Seattle. All of it."

"I …" But she doesn't know what to say. So she reaches for her champagne flute and drains the rest of the glass.

"I'm sorry about New York too," Derek says quietly. He runs a hand through his hair and refills her glass halfway. "I'm really sorry."

Addison shakes her head. "Why now? Why are we having this conversation now, Derek."

"Because it's Christmas. And Christmas makes you want to be with the people you—"

"Stop." She glares at her ex-husband. "I told you not to say that to me."

"Fine." He drains his champagne and meets her eyes. "I won't say that to you. I just ... I'm going to tell you this … things are a lot better when I'm with you."

She feels a lump forming in her throat and she swallows around it. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel the same way.

"That's not enough, Derek," she whispers, shaking her head.

"It could be."

"Then I guess we have three options," Addison says, giving him a small smile.

"I guess we do," Derek agrees, moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Option one," he says, gently pressing his index finger against her rib. "I apologize, you forgive me."

"Der—"

"Option two ..." he presses a second finger against her, "I apologize. You forgive me ... eventually. But you spend a long time pretending you're not going to."

"What's the third option?" she asks, turning in his arms and meeting his eyes.

"I don't know what the third option is," he murmurs, kissing her softly. "I just know I still love you."

She kisses him back. Of course, she does. She's her and he's him—and there's no escaping the inevitable.

So it's no surprise when they start undoing the ties of their terry cloth robes and pushing them off each other's shoulders. And it's no surprise when they end up in bed together for the second time that evening.

It may not be a surprise. But it's also not unwelcome. It's very welcome.

We're far from the shallow now

They're lying in bed together when he says it.

"I got you something."

He slips on his robe and digs through his suitcase. "Merry Christmas, Addie," he smiles, handing her an envelope, which she quickly opens.

"Plane tickets?" She raises an eyebrow. "To New York?"

"They're for Valentine's Day," he grins. "I made reservations at that French place you like."

It's an undeniably sweet gift, but Addison can't help chuckling.

"What?" Derek asks, confused by his ex-wife's reaction to his gift. "Do you not like it? Do you not want to—"

"No, it's not that," Addison reassures. She makes her way toward her suitcase and returns with an envelope. "I got you something too," she explains, handing it to him. "Merry Christmas, Derek."

He opens the envelope and a wide smile spreads across his face.

"A plane ticket," he grins, his eyes crinkling around the corners. "To LA. For New Year's."

"Great minds, I guess," Addison shrugs, gesturing to the two opened gifts.

"Yeah." He leans in and kisses her softly. "Just so you know, there's no one I'd rather ring in the New Year with."

She smiles against his lips. "Me either."

They have all the major winter holidays covered. And neither, for even a moment, has considered the very likely possibility that one or both of them might have to work.

But if they do, they'll get out of it. He's sure of it. And more importantly, she's sure of it.

"When's your flight out?" Derek murmurs, wrapping his arms around his ex-wife and swaying with her gently.

"The day after Christmas," Addison whispers into his neck.

"Cancel it."

"What?"

"Cancel it," Derek smiles. "And stay with me instead."

Addison looks at him uncertainly. The day after Christmas isn't a holiday. Just a regular day. A random, unremarkable ... Wednesday.

And she can't help smiling as Savvy's words echo in her mind: I'd say a random Wednesday isn't as out of the question as you seem to think.

"Okay," she says quietly.

"Really?" Derek's eyes light up. "You'll cancel?"

"I'll cancel."

Of course she'll cancel. She owes it herself—and to them—to cancel. To spend that random Wednesday together.

That much she knows.

What she doesn't know ... what they don't know ... is that this random Wednesday—the Wednesday after Christmas—will be the first of many.

xxx