They hadn't spoken the entire way home, the walk up the sidewalk into the brownstone, and not even when Derek struggled to unlock the door. When the huge oak barrier gave open and swung wide, revealing the marble foyer, Derek moved to the side, allowing Addison to enter first.

Without a word, she moved past him and made her way up the stairs, to the master bathroom.

After undressing and allowing the water to heat to the point of scalding, Addison eased herself under the spray, and for a long while, simply leaned against the glass, allowing the tension and exhaustion to be pounded from her body by the surge of water.

Fatigue was a normal occurrence for pregnant women. She knew this—both from her previous pregnancy, as well as more than a decade of being a neonatal surgeon. But the exhaustion that had a grip on her was so profound, she felt just by standing that she was wedged in a vice, and the only thing to provide her any relief would be to become prostrate for a long, long period of time.

After pulling herself from her trance long enough to actually bathe, Addison stepped out of the shower, dried herself off, and padded into her and Derek's bedroom, in search of the most comfortable and warmest thing she could find.

Decision? A pair of Derek's old pajama pants from med school that were, despite his denial, far too small on him, and a baggy, long-sleeved tee shirt.

After climbing into that haute couture, Addison towel dried her hair, and as she was passing back into the bathroom from the bedroom, she caught her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. The sight of herself caused her to pause.

With her makeup scrubbed off, her hair darkened by the moisture and swinging crazily in wavy tangles, and her feet bare, cushioned only by the carpet, she looked totally unlike herself. But as she stepped closer, she realized that idea didn't upset her. She was totally unlike herself—but she was incredibly comfortable. She wasn't focused on her posture, on keeping her clothes straight, or on balancing on her shoes. She was just…her.

Lowering her towel to the ground, she edged even closer to the mirror and pulled the lip of her shirt up slightly, revealed her slightly rounded stomach.

"There you are." She whispered, addressing the baby she had known about for two months but had hardly acknowledged until that day.

She furrowed her brows as she studied her stomach. Under her clothing, it hadn't been noticeable, and she probably could have gotten away with another month. But now, as she studied it, and turned to the side to examine it in profile, she realized just how pronounced it was.

"The difference between being 28 and pregnant and 38 and pregnant." She observed with an eyebrow raise. She ran her palm lightly across the bump, and then back, stopping to rest it over the center. She held her breath for a moment, and tried to discern the independent heartbeat.

It was medically an impossibility for her to detect it unaided, but she attempted to anyway. Even after all the years she had spent in her field, pregnancy itself fascinated her like nothing else. Even though she knew every angle, aspect, and secret of it, the actual state of being pregnant still maintained a mysterious, almost magical quality.

And at the moment, Addison wasn't thinking as Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd, examining a patient fifteen weeks pregnant. She was Addison, trying to feel her son's heartbeat.

"Addie?"

Addison nearly jumped out of her skin, as she whirled around to see Derek, standing in the doorway, his face unreadable. Addison opened her mouth, which involuntarily shaped into a surprised O shape, and then closed it.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know I'm going to be a father, again." He tilted his head, his eyes dancing.

"How can you just assume—," she began, sheepishly slipping the shirt back down to cover her stomach. Derek laughed at her as he came to her and wrapped his arms around her.

"Because I haven't seen you so closely examine your stomach like that since Sadie, and then I started putting it all together," he spoke excitedly into her hair, and then pulled away to cup her face. "I can't believe it, this is fantastic." He kissed her lovingly, and when he pulled back, the absolute joy in his eyes brought tears to hers.

"I'm…I'm glad you feel that way," she managed, smiling over the tears. He laughed again, and swiped at her tears.

"Of course I do! Did you think I'd be upset?"

"No…"

"Good. Because I'm not. I'm thrilled." He looked quickly to the bed, "here, sit down and tell me the details."

Addison allowed him to lead her to the bed, and be seated.

"So how far along are you?" he asked excitedly. She averted her eyes to her hands.

"Fifteen weeks."

The excitement in his eyes remained, but his face slipped.

"Wow. When did you find out?"

Addison slowly turned her head to meet his questioning gaze.

"About nine weeks ago."

He frowned.

"Why…why didn't you tell me?"

Addison shook her head.

"I don't know."

She looked away again as tears threatened to spill over, but Derek caught her chin and held her gaze.

"Hey, what is it?" he asked gently, "Are you not…are you not happy?"

Addison sniffled a small sob.

"I don't know. I was so surprised, at first; I thought…it was just a scare. And then everything started happening, and it turned out not to be a scare, but I was so busy…"

"Hey, hey, Addie…relax, you're babbling." He said with a half-smile. She pressed her lips together in a small smile.

"I'm…sorry." She took a breath. "I am happy. I am happy we're having another baby, and Sadie will have a little brother…"

"It's a boy?" Derek said with obvious delight. Addison rolled her eyes.

"Yes, you have an heir." She had to smile at his irrepressible smile, and then got serious. "But honestly, Derek, there was a reason I didn't tell you. I didn't tell anyone."

He schooled his features, and nodded. "What was it?"

"I don't know what this will mean. For me, for my…career."

He frowned again.

"What do you mean? We do fine with Sadie…"

Addison cut him off.

"Fine, Derek? We don't do fine with Sadie. We manage. There's a huge difference, and it exhausts me." She expelled a harsh breath. Derek sat back.

"Are you saying you didn't want to have the baby?"

"No!" Addison attested, crossing her arms.

"Are you saying you want to quit your job?"

"No!" she replied just as forcefully.

"Then what? We could always hire a nanny." He reasoned, but she pounced.

"We decided when Sadie was born we wouldn't do that!"

"That was ten years ago, Addison! Things change!"

"That much?"

"If they have to." Derek noticed she had edged away from him, and put his hands on her hips to tug her closer. "It doesn't make us bad parents if we hired someone to help out."

Addison nodded silently, and Derek wound his arm around her shoulder.

"Don't just nod at me, Addie. Believe it, because it's true."

When the tears came this time, she didn't move to hide them, and he didn't try to stop them.

"I just don't want to be one of those parents, Derek. The kind I see all the time, who work to have this perfect life, and don't realize that they've let their children become just another cool accessory they own to complete the picture."

"Hey! We have never been those parents, Addison!" Derek kissed her damp cheek. "We never claimed or tried to be perfect."

She snorted. "That is true."

"Seriously. Sadie has everything she needs, and most of what she wants…"

"Things, Derek. Things."

"I wasn't finished! But what really counts, what really matters, is that when we're dead, and Sadie thinks back about us, she will never for a moment be able to doubt that we loved her, more than anything—each other, our careers, anything. And that's what it comes down to. And it will be the same for this…our son." He seemed to glow with pride when he said it. Addison smiled now, not because she had to, but because she couldn't help it.

"I hope you're still this optimistic in a month or two when you're out in the snow getting me pistachio ice cream and tacos at four am, or a year from now when he's got his fists full of your hair." She warned, half-teasingly. He kissed her nose chastely.

"I love pistachio ice cream, and I could use a haircut anyway. Mark will get off my back."

Addison touched his hair with a fleeting, featherlike touch.

"I don't know…it's nice."

"You just like it because it reminds you of Russell Crowe."

"Well, I did always have a thing for him…"

"Jeez. First I had to compete with George Clooney's chin, now Russell Crowe's hair…" Derek began kissing her cheek, and then as he slid down the side of her neck and she giggled, he whispered, "I'll just have to make you forget about them."

"I don't know," she managed amongst laughter, as he became more aggressive, "That'd be pretty hard—Ah!"

An hour later, she couldn't have picked George or Russell out of a line-up.

Nestled with her head fitted perfectly in the crook of Derek's shoulder, she allowed herself to remain still and her eyes closed, as he tugged the plushy comforter around her.

"There you go." He whispered softly, kissing her nose again and smiling down at her. She smiled slowly, like a cat, and squinted up at him.

"What?" he asked confused and slightly worried.

"…Nothing." She changed her mind and shut her eyes.

"Hey, no. You don't get to look at me like that and not tell me what it was about!" he prodded, nudging her bare rib with his hand. She snickered.

"I was just thinking about how we're going to tell Sadie."

Derek frowned, missing the conclusion she had reached. "You don't think she'll be happy?"

"No, not that. God knows, she's wanted a brother or sister since she was three. I meant more…what it will have to lead to. Telling her."

"What will it lead to? I don't follow your female logic."

"Derek, she's ten, almost eleven. She's in fifth grade."

"So…"

"So, being an intelligent, perceptive fifth grader, what question could potentially follow "We're having a baby"?"

Derek frowned, and pondered. For too long. Addison rolled her eyes.

"Derek, we're going to have to tell her where babies come from!"

She might as well have punched him.

"Why?" he managed hoarsely. Addison was incredibly amused by his sudden horror, but kept the sentiment to herself.

"Because, despite what you or Mark would like to believe, she is not a baby anymore. She's going to find out, and soon, so wouldn't it make more sense and make you feel better if you knew she was getting correct, medical information from us?"

"But…why can't we wait until…I don't know…she gets her…you know…"

"Period, Dr. Shepherd."

"Ah! Addison, don't!" he cringed, pressing his eyes together and kneading them with his hand. Now she did laugh.

"Seriously, Derek? You can't even say it?"

"Of course I can say it!" he protested, with a miserable sigh. "I just don't want to think about it…with her."

Since his distress was tangible, Addison wiggled upward and kissed his cheek consolingly.

"I'm sorry, honey, but it's going to happen. And it's important that she get the right information early, so she's not confused or mislead later!"

He heaved another sigh, but nodded. "You're right." Then he turned to her. "So when are you going to tell her?"

Addison's mouth dropped open.

"We will tell her in a day or two, when we don't have houseguests."

Derek's mortification returned.

"We?"

"Yes, we. This isn't the 1950s. Fathers play a pivotal, active role in family life now."

"But, but isn't that more of a female-to-female thing?"

"It could be, but don't you want Sadie to feel she can talk about that sort of thing with you?"

"No!" he exclaimed, but Addison elbowed him.

"Yes you do, because just like Sadie is going to grow up, someday you will too!" she informed him with a stern voice and amusement in her eyes.

"I am grown up. I just…I won't know what to say. I've never done this before." He muttered. Addison laid her head on his arm, and looked up at him.

"Well, it won't be so bad. Who told you about sex?"

"Oh no!" Derek reacted physically, sitting up. "We're not going there."

Intrigued, Addison grabbed his chin.

"Derek Michael Shepherd, you will tell me!" she demanded, as he shook his head vehemently.

"No, Addison, I won't!" He yanked her on top of him, and tried to distract her by kissing her. After a moment, she pushed his face far enough away to look into his eyes.

"It can't be that bad."

"It is."

"Was it your mother?" she asked, thinking of his father's death when Derek was eight. He laughed and shook his head.

"No way. She was very old fashioned about that."

"Then who? Mark?" Addison asked with a grin.

"No, I managed to unveil the secret of sex before I was 19, thanks." He tickled her as punishment for the insinuation.

"Well, tell me! I want to know what I'm working with!" she asked, pillowing her chin on her hands, which were folded over his chest. He sighed, and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Nancy told me."

Addison's eyebrows shot up.

"Really? How did that go?"

"This is horrible. I can't believe I'm telling you."

"Derek, twelve years of marriage! How bad could it be?"

He shook his head and closed his eyes. "I was sixteen when she told me…after finding me with my girlfriend at the time."

Addison's eyes popped open.

"Finding you, as in…"

"As in, finding me. Us, really. The first time, too, for me."

"Oh my God…" Addison covered her mouth with her hand, but the snicker was unmistakable. He pulled her upward.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you!"

"No, no, it's not funny!" she managed to control herself. "What…what did she say?"

"Well…nothing at first. She opened my bedroom door, stood there long enough so I saw her and well…stopped. Cat Dempsey, my girlfriend, screamed and dressed faster than I ever saw a human do before and bolted. So I sat, half dressed on my bed, just about to die from embarrassment, when Nancy comes back…with a box of condoms from her college girl stash."

Addison bit her lip not to giggle. "And then?"

"And then, she looked around for Cat and said, 'You didn't have to stop, I just wanted to make sure you had some armor to go with that sword'."

"That…sounds like Nancy."

"Yeah. Sure does. So she handed me the box, patted my head, and left." He finished dejectedly, sliding his eyes to Addison, who was grinning ear-to-ear. "You can't find this amusing!"

"I don't!" she protested. "I just…am proud. You've got considerable skill, considering you were, oh, shall we say, self-taught?"

Derek threw his head back.
"You're an evil woman."

"But you love me. And it wasn't that bad!" she assured him.

"Oh, it was at the time." He peered at her. "I suppose yours was incredibly proper?"

She nodded with a sigh. "There were charts."

"Leave it to Thomas Montgomery to be thorough." He murmured.

"Well, since I have the better experience, I'll do the initial talk."

"And I'll sit there quietly? Good." Derek stated with a smile.

"No, Dr. Shepherd, you will field any questions she has."

His face went pale.

"Oh God. Questions? No. No! That's definitely more…female-to-female."

Addison chewed her lip.

"I guess you're right. Okay, You give the initial explanation, and I'll answer the questions."

"Deal. Can we go to bed now? Before you suggest something drastic, like taking her shopping for a bra?"

Addison looked away.

"Addison! What!?"

"Oh relax, Derek, it's a training bra!" Addison returned, but Derek pulled her closer and closed his eyes.

"I always liked the proverb about ignorance being bliss, Addie. Sometimes, it is true."

"What are you doing awake, Grey?"

Miranda's voice from down the darkened second-floor hallway startled Meredith to the point where she almost spilled the drink she was carrying. She regrouped, and turned from her destination, her bedroom, which lay down the corridor a good ten feet more.

"Just getting a drink from the kitchen." She replied, watching as Miranda emerged from the shadow. Like Meredith, she was wearing a guest robe provided in the bathroom attached to her bedroom, and she looked…restless.

"What's in the glass?" she asked curiously. Meredith smiled, embarrassed.

"Chocolate milk." Not exactly a dignified beverage, especially since it was crudely mixed Hershey's chocolate syrup and whole milk. Addison had told her when she had called to help herself to anything in the kitchen, but this particular concoction had been a result of the Sadie's insistence. After she had gone to bed, the child in Meredith craved more.

Miranda peered at the glass.

"Any more milk left down there?" she asked, and Meredith nodded.

"I'll—I'll show you."

A few minutes later, Meredith found herself in the most surreal scene. Barefoot, swaddled in bathrobes, in the multi-million dollar brownstone of Derek and Addison Shepherd, she and Miranda Bailey were making homemade chocolate milk.

Once they both mixed their syrup to the desire consistency and began drinking, a slightly awkward silence overcame them. Only for a moment, though, before Miranda broke it.

"You know, my mother used to make this for me as a treat when I was a kid."

Meredith smiled, more at ease.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Miranda mused. "Actual chocolate milk was more expensive, I guess, or something. But it was my special treat." She took another gulp.

"Sounds nice." Meredith said. Miranda nodded.

"It was." She slowly swirled the glass. "It will always remind me of her."

With that, Meredith looked down into her drink.

"Are you okay, Meredith?" Miranda asked gently, very out of the "Bailey" character. Meredith nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"You sure?" Miranda asked again, her eyes friendly.

"Yeah. I was just thinking of my mom."

"Ah," Miranda said with a respectful tone, "The famous Dr. Ellis Grey."

"Yeah, that's her." Meredith murmured. She was jarred when Miranda put a hand on hers.

"It must have been hard." She said simply. Meredith took a long moment before she responded.

"At times. But I loved her."

"And you know what? She loved you, too. We mothers can't help it, surgeons or not."

"Here, turn your wrist—like that. You want to cut at an angle, so the pieces are uniform."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Slow down, it's not a race. Precision is important. There. Perfect." Derek backed away from Sadie, who was standing at the cutting board on a stool, splicing away at an unfortunate banana. The mp3 player on a dock nearby filled the kitchen with the silky voice of Frank Sinatra, and the early-morning sun poured its white light into the room, bathing the occupants in its warmth and promise.

With a swell of pride, Derek observed, "You hold your knife like I do."

"Oh. That's why I'm perfect?" Sadie replied sweetly.

Derek shook his head as he leaned against the counter, "Smart…aleck. Just like your mother."

Who he had allowed to sleep in while he and Sadie made breakfast for her and their guests. One of which walked into the room sleepily, to see Derek with one eye on his operating daughter and the other on the simmering batter on the stove.

"I know I'm in a house of surgeons when this is considered bonding." Meredith remarked with a twinkle in her eye. Derek winked, and peered at Sadie's progress as he crossed his arms.

"Sure is. Sadie, what did I tell you—angle the blade." He instructed. Sadie waved him off.

"I'm trying something new. They'll call it the Sadie Shepherd Method."

He raised an eyebrow as she continued. "Hack and saw?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You're funny, Dad. For an old guy."

Ignoring the deliberately inflammatory jab, Derek smiled sweetly at Meredith as she seated herself on a stool at the island across from him. "Meredith—what fruit do you want in your pancakes?"

"What are my options?" she asked, scanning the array of ingredients Derek had bought at the corner store and then flooded the counters with.

"We have—bananas, which my daughter is in the process of slashing to bits, strawberries, blueberries, oranges, or cherries." He offered, nodding around to the variety.

"Oranges? I never heard of that."

"It's my favorite!" Sadie chimed in from the cutting board.

"Then it must be good. I'll go with that." Meredith decided with a smile.

As Derek collected two of his oranges, Sadie laid her knife down, climbed from the stool, and tugged on his elbow.

"Dad, I'm tired of cutting bananas. Can I cut Meredith's oranges?"

"Oh, I don't know." Derek said gravely, setting the oranges down as the opening bars of "The Way You Look Tonight" began. "That's a whole other beast. I think your hands need a break first—may I have this dance!" He held out a hand to his daughter, who giggled silly as she clutched it with her much smaller one.

"Okay!"

With that, much to Sadie's (and Meredith's) delight, he pulled her up onto the tops of his bare feet, and in their pajamas with their wild bed head, he danced the two of them around the tiled floor with incredible ease and exaggerated grandeur.

"Lovely, don't you ever change…" Derek sang along at the end, and Sadie squealed with laughter as he picked her up and dipped her slowly by Meredith's stool, so she smiled up at Meredith upside down.

Meredith couldn't help but laugh as Derek eased Sadie back up to a standing position and the song ended. It wasn't because of her amusement or the humor of the scene, but because she felt that warmth one inevitably feels when they are in the presence of love and felt compelled to laugh.

"Well, good morning! Is the next number lady's choice?" Miranda asked as she entered the kitchen. Derek smiled charmingly.
"Sure, there is enough of me to go around." He held out a hand, but she shook her head and smiled, seating herself beside Meredith.

Now in custody of the oranges and a new knife, Sadie addressed Miranda over her shoulder, "What do you want on your pancakes, Dr. Bailey?"

"What service! I like mine with butter and powdered sugar, if it's available." She told her, as Derek put two coffee mugs before her and Meredith.

"Definitely. That's what my mom likes the best, too." Sadie replied, struggling with the orange. Sensing a potential danger, Derek easily freed the knife from her grasp, and rolled the orange away.

"Speaking of, why don't you go get her, Sadie? She'll want pancakes when they're done."

"Okay." With a flourish, which appeared even more adorable when she did so in her colorful little girl pajamas, Sadie bound from the kitchen.

Derek put the oranges aside a moment and grabbed the coffee pot to fill the mugs in front of Miranda and Meredith. When he finished, he asked, "What can I put in it?"

"I like mine light, no sugar." Meredith replied. Derek retrieved the cream and sugar for her, and turned to Miranda, who answered, "Black, for me."

"Cowboy coffee? I only drink that after at least thirty hours of a shift." Derek observed, turning to his own mixture.

"I actually like it. Much less complicated, very straight to the point." Miranda informed him, and he chuckled.

"My wife and I should definitely start drinking it, then." The timer went off, and Derek turned to flip the pancakes.

"Can I help?" Meredith offered, moving from her seat.

"Sure, if you could just grab those bananas…" she handed them to him, and stood beside him as he plopped them into the half-cooked batter and flipped the pancake.

"I don't suppose you do this every Saturday?" she asked, inhaling the scent.

"No, but I should, I think."

"Definitely," Miranda replied. "And if you ever consider relocating to Seattle, you're welcome to do it in my home any day of the week. I'll pay well."

Derek looked up, smiling. "With the market as it is, I may take you up on that."

As they shared a friendly laugh, Sadie reappeared in the doorway, rather pale. Derek looked at her quickly, noticed her pallor, and turned back.

"What's the matter, baby?"

All eyes turned to the child in the doorway as she said,

"Something's…something's wrong with Mom."

First, I apologize for taking FOREVER with the updates. Not my fault! Finals plague me.
Second, I am aware that parts (or…all) of this chapter were saccharinely sweet. No defense for that, aside from Addek is being beaten out of current canon, so I had to make up for it doubly in my fanon. So there you go. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh yes, and stick around! Another chapter to come, someday sooner than this, hopefully.