Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Mark's birthday was fast approaching, only two days away, and I still had no idea what to get him. I'd planned the party, everything was ready for that, but I still didn't have a clue about a good present. I wanted this one to an especially good present because Mark was dreading turning forty. He'd been moody and a little depressed for about a week.

"Not now, Peanut, Mommy is working," I muttered, elbow deep in a patient's abdomen.

"Excuse me?" Katie looked up from her position across the table, confused.

"My son is kicking me. He's demanding cookie dough ice-cream."

"Oh! Can I feel him?"

"I want to let Mark feel him first."

"Did he just start kicking? Why hasn't Mark felt him yet?"

"No, he's been kicking for a while. It seems like every time Mark tries to feel him, he stops kicking. I really want to surprise Mark with a good kick, and I've promised not to let anyone else feel him until he does."

"Aww. Have you figured out a birthday present yet?"

"No. Keep thinking about it for me."

"Dr. Shepherd?" a nurse interrupted. "The other Dr. Shepherd is paging you."

"Call him for me, Erika."

"Sure thing," she paused to dial his number. "He wants to speak with you privately. He says he is about to leave Seattle for New York right now."

"Oh, okay. Thank-you, Erika."

I wonder what that's about…

After the surgery was finished, I knocked on Mark's office door. I didn't want to tell him Derek was coming to New York, but I felt I probably should let him know.

"What?" came an annoyed and angry voice.

"I'm sorry…I…"

"Oh, hey, Gorgeous," his tone instantly softened.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just in a bad mood."

"Oh. Well, I'll come back later," I tried to get away because I didn't want to put him in a worse mood.

"Come back here. What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Addie, I'm not going to get mad at you. I'm just aggravated right now. Come here," he patted his lap and motioned for me to come around the desk.

I settled myself into his lap, and one of his hands immediately went to my stomach. I hoped Peanut would start kicking again. He bounced my stomach just a little and made some faces at it. Then, he sighed in frustration.

"Why won't you kick me? I know you're kicking your mommy," he was taking on an upset tone again.

"He's shy."

"Just like his daddy used to be," Mark said, frowning. "You have no idea how much I wish he could be mine. I love him just the same, but I want to be his one and only daddy," this was a never ending conversation.

"I know," I sighed, and Mark put his arms around me.

"I'm sorry, Baby. I shouldn't be so down. It's depressing you, and that's not good for little Peanut."

"I have to tell you something that you probably won't like. Derek is coming to New York today. He just called to tell me."

"I don't mind Derek. It's the other way around," he snapped, then looked immediately apologetic. "Ignore my bad mood."

"It's okay. You're allowed to have mood swings, too," I teased.

"You're so great. I love you," he gave a small smile and kissed me.

"I love you, too. Now, I have to get back to work."

"No, you don't. Stay here, and I'll pay you," he said, nibbling at my neck and ear.

"I can't. I have patients to see. You do as well." I shivered.

"Okay. I'll see you at home. Take care of yourself and feed the little guy."

"I will," he reached out and patted my backside as I walked toward the door.

So, it's not just his birthday that's got him depressed. I wish there was something I could do to make him feel better about the baby. He obviously loves him so much. After I finished up with my patients, I headed home and made a short stop at Ben and Jerry's for some cookie dough ice-cream. When I arrived, a car I did not recognize was sitting in the small driveway. It took only a second for me to realize that Derek was sitting in the driver's seat, reading a book.

"Hello, Addison," he looked up to find me staring at him.

"Hi."

"How are you…and the baby?"

"We're fine. What's up?"

"You said I could come visit you and the baby any time. Plus, I do need to talk to you."

"Okay…" I was not sure if I should feel worried or not.

"I think I'm going to ask Meredith to marry me."

"Really? That's wonderful!"

"Is everything okay with you and Mark?" he asked quickly, before I could say anything more about him and Meredith.

"Yes. He's been absolutely wonderful these last few months."

"I'm so happy with Meredith, and I want you to be as happy as I am. Are you happy?"

"Very happy. What's going on?" I couldn't stand his procrastinating any longer.

"I wanted to come and make sure he's treating you and our baby right."

"He's been nothing short of amazing," I was being truthful, but I couldn't hide the hint of worry in my voice.

Derek eyed me skeptically. He reached out to touch my stomach but pulled away awkwardly.

"You can touch him. He is your baby," I tried to sound sincere, but a small part of me agreed with Mark.

"You've gotten…well…I mean…He's grown so much. I wish I could be here to watch him grow."

Not knowing how to reply, I stood there with Derek's hand on my stomach. After an uncomfortable silence, Derek looked up at me. He hesitated briefly, as if unsure of what he was going to say.

"I am six months along now."

"I know, and I've been thinking about you and the baby a lot," he paused, and I nodded. "I want my son to have the very best of everything. The best schools, the best clothes, the best parents."

I held up a hand to stop him, but he took my hand in his own and put a finger to my lips.

"It wouldn't be best for him to have parents on opposite ends of the country. That just isn't fair," he paused again. "So, I've talked to Meredith and Richard about this, and they agreed with me. I've also talked to some people here in New York, and they agree as well."

"Agree?"

"I want my son to have two parents in the same city. Not one in New York and one in Seattle."

"Okay…"

"And, well," unshed tears threatened to spill over and his voice cracked slightly. "Well, I think that, from now on, we should refer to him as my nephew or something..."

"But, Derek!" I interrupted.

"No. He deserves two parents," as he spoke, he pulled something from a briefcase. "I've already signed them, and I hope you and Mark will, too."

"Are these…?"

"Adoption papers."

"Oh, Derek, you don't have to…"

"Tell Mark 'Happy Birthday' for me," he was fighting harder to choke back the tears.

"Do you want to stay for the party? It's the day after tomorrow."

"Nah. I believe you, you know, when you say that he's good to you. I've had a few spies keeping check on things for me. I wanted to make sure he was good enough for you and my boy. That's how I decided to do this."

"It really does mean a lot to us. Thank-you." I smiled slightly, looking down at the certificate that would make Mark's birthday truly happy.

"Well, you take good care of yourself and the baby. I still want to be here when he's born."

"No problem."

With that, he put a gentle hand on my stomach one last time, kissed me on the cheek, and was gone.

After the final guest had left our living room, I collapsed into a chair, completely exhausted from planning and carrying out Mark's fortieth birthday party. The party itself was spectacular. We had dinner at Mark's favorite Italian restaurant, a little place called Guisseppe's, then the guests arrived at our house for the party. Drinks were served and everyone danced. Everyone had a great time, it seemed, except Mark. He was still gloomy. When he'd opened the final present, an autographed copy of one of his favorite Guns 'n' Roses CDs (from me with a little help from Katie, who's father knows somebody or other), he claimed he didn't feel well and headed upstairs. I mustered the strength to go upstairs and check on him.

"Honey? Are you feeling okay?"

"Damn it, Addison. I want to be left alone."

"Mark!" I cried, hurt by his outburst.

"I'm sorry, Baby. I just don't feel so hot."

"Can I cheer you up?" I sat down next to him on the bed and began rubbing his shoulders.

"Addie, please," he turned over and pushed me back a little so that my baby bump was no longer on his back.

"I have another present for you."

"Save it for tomorrow."

"But today's your birthday!"

"Addison! Stop bothering me!"

"Just because you're pissed about turning forty doesn't mean you have to take it out on me!" I yelled back and threw the envelope containing the adoption certificates onto the bed before running from the room in tears.

AN: This part is Mark's POV.

When the door slammed behind Addison, I immediately felt incredibly sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at her, but I didn't know how to explain how I was feeling. My father never showed any kind of emotion except anger, and my mom was impatient when any of us tried to show emotion. I couldn't figure out how to tell her what I was feeling, and I ended up being mad instead.

She's having Derek's baby. Why can't he be mine? I love her more than I've ever loved anyone and probably more than Derek ever loved her. It's not fair that he gets to be the father. I want to be a daddy. A real daddy, not a substitute. God, she's so beautiful pregnant, and I keep cursing my own damn luck that I didn't put the baby in her. I want to be a good father to him. I want to be better than my father was to me. If he ever treats his wife the way I just treated Addison, I'll bust his ass. I don't care if he is forty. I have to tell her. I have to apologize to her. It's not fair to her or Peanut. She probably thinks I'm bitter about turning forty. I wish that was the problem. I've treated her so terrible the last few weeks.

I turned over to look at whatever Addison had thrown onto the bed. Turning over the manila envelope, I saw handwriting that I recognized on the front. Derek's. I sighed, angry and frustrated, but I opened the envelope anyway. A note slipped out, also written in the very familiar handwriting of my former best friend.

Mark, the scrawling writing read, I've been thinking about Addison, the baby, and you a lot over the last few months. She's happy with you, happier than she ever was with me. I only want what is best for her and my unborn son. She has me convinced that you are it. I sincerely hope that you will not prove me wrong in the decision I have made. Do me the honor of signing this certificate and give my son the best father he could ever hope to have. Philia, Derek.

He had signed the note using the word our college fraternity used in saying "brotherly love." Inside the envelope were adoption papers. I pulled them out, read them slowly, and saw where Addison and Derek had both signed to terminate Derek's rights as the father and give them to me. I choked on tears I hadn't realized were coming out until that moment. Quickly, I found a pen, signed the papers, and went to find Addison. She was sitting in the now finished nursery, on a blanket in the middle of the floor. Her back was to the door, but I could tell she was still crying. She fingered the edge of the blanket gently, the rest of her body curled as small as she could get it given how the baby had grown. Her awe-inspiring hair cascaded down the back of her maternity shirt. A small, bare space between her shirt and pants revealed part of the cluster of freckles that closely resembles a woman and child holding hands. It was a sight that will continue to amaze me. I crept up behind her and joined her on the blanket.

"I've been a complete jerk, and I'm really sorry," I whispered into her hair, wrapping my arms around my son.

"It's not my fault!" she sobbed. "And you've been treating me like it is!"

"I know. Here," I handed her the certificate entitling me to full rights as the legal guardian of Baby Sloan. "Thank-you, for the best birthday present ever."

"I want you to be his daddy, his real daddy, but you have to talk to me before you're angry or it won't work," she wiggled herself into the space between my legs.

"I know. I'm going to work really hard on that, I promise. For you and Peanut Sloan," I pulled her close to me, and she giggled. Then, her stomach bounced into my stomach. "What was that?"

"He kicked you."

"I guess he likes me after all."

"Of course he does…Daddy."

"Well, you tell him that I like him, too, Mommy."

"He knows. You know what else?"

"Hmm?" I was enraptured by my now eagerly kicking son.

"He says he has a birthday present for you," she looked at me with an expression that I didn't quite understand.

"What's that?"

"He's decided that this month is going to be 'make-Mommy-feisty' month," she said with a sly grin.

So, that's why she was giving me the "I want to take your clothes off" face.

"I'm not going to object to that. The kid has great gift ideas," I said, helping her off the floor. "That's my boy."

We headed back to the bedroom as quickly as Addison could go. I slipped her shirt over her head and kissed all the way down to her navel, which was beginning to turn itself inside out. My son kicked me in the face, and my fiancé yanked my shirt over my head. Her craving this month is sex…I could get used to this.

AN: So, this got really long. I was going to cut it off, but I couldn't find the right place. Plus, I'm going to start moving ahead in time a little faster, so two chapters devoted to one week doesn't work. Up next: baby names and….feel free to give some suggestions.