A/N (03/15/15): Hello friends! As hard as it is to believe, it's been about two and a half years since I last updated one of my stories. My sincere apologies to all of my loyal readers for essentially dropping off the face of the earth, and thank you to everyone who kept reading, reviewing, and messaging me while I was lost in "real life", whatever that is!
I am working my way through this story, tweaking it slightly to take it in a direction that will better bring it to the conclusion I always intended it to reach. I'll be posting the updated versions of the existing chapters in batches until it's all caught up and we get back into new material. Most of the changes are minor in the first 15 or so chapters, but there are a few bigger changes in the later chapters of this new version. So even if you've read the story before, I encourage you to start at the beginning and work your way forward - I'll date all the updated chapters as they go up, so that it is clear what has been updated. Thank you all for your patience!
Derek glanced at the folder he'd tossed haphazardly on his coffee table, taking another sip of his coffee and leaning back against the cushions of the overstuffed sofa. Reaching for the remote on the side table, he clicked a button and watched as the curtains rose on the floor-to-ceiling windows across the room.
The windows had been the main selling point for this apartment when he'd bought it nearly a decade earlier. Derek himself had never had the desire to own a penthouse apartment, even once he'd become more than capable of affording it. In fact, he had balked at the idea when his sister had first suggested he look at one. What use did he have for three bedrooms? For two and a half bathrooms? For a living room bigger than many New Yorkers' entire apartments?
But Megan had just been starting out in real estate, and in the competitive Manhattan market, she'd needed that first big sale to get herself established. So Derek had agreed to look, and by the end of the first week, no one was more surprised than he was when he'd agreed to sign on the dotted line.
The view really was the only part of the apartment that held any appeal for him at this point. The place was too cold in the winter, too hot in the summer, and too big all of the time. The only thing that kept him there was the slight sense of peace he got sitting there each morning, watching the sun rise over Manhattan. That, and he never could seem to find the time it would take to sell the place, especially since, like so many other of her endeavors, Megan's passion for real estate had faded almost as quickly as a nightly sunset.
Looking away from the windows and back down to his coffee table, Derek flipped open the folder and skimmed through the press release. As he did, he was grateful that he was already sitting down, or he might have shown up to breakfast that morning sporting a few difficult-to-explain bruises from falling over in shock.
The Board of Trustees of New York Presbyterian Hospital is pleased to announce that they have selected Dr. Cristina Yang to serve as the hospital's new Chief of Surgery, effective November 1. Dr. Yang will replace Dr. Harold Levinson, who has served as interim Chief of Surgery for the past ten months.
Dr. Yang is board certified in cardio-thoracic surgery, and comes to NYPH after spending the past eleven years leading the nationally renowned cardio-thoracic team at Miami-Dade General Hospital, where her research has twice led to her receipt of the prestigious Harper Avery award. Prior to her tenure in Miami, Dr. Yang held an attending position at Seattle Grace-Mercy West Hospital for nearly five years. During that time, she was instrumental in the founding of the George O'Malley Cardiac Care Unit, which currently ranks as the number one cardiac care center in the country.
Dr. Yang is a graduate of Smith College and the Stanford University School of Medicine, and completed her residency and fellowship years at SGMW. In fact, Dr. Yang is a member of that institution's so-called "golden decade," during which it produced some of the most well-known names in medicine today, including Miranda Bailey, Callie Torres, Alex Karev, Jackson Avery, Alexandra Sloan, and Meredith Grey, to name only a few.
The first thing Cristina did after fixing herself a cup of coffee the next morning was call the restaurant and leave a message canceling her breakfast meeting. There was just no way she could sit there across the table from Addison Montgomery and Derek Shepherd and act like everything was normal, not today.
Almost as soon as she'd hung up from that phone call, she slipped on her heavy overcoat and grabbed her coffee mug, tip-toeing quietly out onto the front steps of her brownstone. Taking a seat on the top step, she noticed her hands shaking as she dialed the next number in her phone, and she knew it wasn't just from the cold.
"We need to talk."
A muffled groan was all that greeted her on the other end of the phone line.
"Are you there? This is important."
"Are you bleeding and/or dying?"
"No, but…"
"Are any of my children bleeding and/or dying?"
"Not that I know of."
"Then call back when it's not 3:47 in the goddamn morning."
"Meredith, this is…" Cristina sighed when she heard a click and pulled the phone away from her ear to see 'call ended' flashing on the screen. Shaking her head, she immediately hit redial and pressed it back to her ear.
"What?"
"First, it's rude to hang up on your person. Second, you're supposed to ask if anyone is bleeding, dying, or dead. You forgot the last part."
"No, I didn't. Dead is not an acceptable reason for waking me up. Bleeding or dying, those I might be able to fix. There's nothing I can do about dead. If someone is dead now, they'll be just as dead at a reasonable hour of the morning."
"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but you might have a point."
"Of course I do. What I'm wondering is if this phone call has a point. Because if it does, you have exactly ten seconds to make it before I hang up on you again."
"I think Annie might know who her father is."
"You called me in the middle of the night to tell me that?"
"It's not the middle of the night here, it's almost seven o'clock in the morning. And yes, that's why I called, because this is a big freaking deal, Meredith." Cristina paused and frowned. "Why are you not freaking out?"
"This isn't exactly breaking news for me, Cristina." Meredith sighed audibly on the other end of the phone. "Annie's known who her father is for the last four years. Why do you think she stopped speaking to me?"
"Wait, Annie's known for four years? Four years, and I'm just now finding out that she knows?"
"There was some mix-up with her marriage license, so she had to go to the County Recorder and get a copy of her birth certificate before the wedding."
"How would that…oh, Meredith, no. Say you didn't." Cristina leaned forward and rested her forehead on her palm. "For the love of all things holy and good, please tell me that you were not stupid enough to put his name on their birth certificates!"
"Well, I…"
"Why the hell would you do something so absurdly stupid?"
"Cristina, you were there. You know I never intended for them to not know their father. I wanted him to be a part of their lives."
"Yeah, yeah, I remember. You and your stupid sentimental family bullshit. You were going to throw your career away for that bastard."
"Cristina!"
"What? You know as well as I do that if it had come out that you'd had a baby with an attending, that would have been it. Bye-bye surgery career. You know how the old boys' club is, even today."
"And I've told you over and over again, I didn't care then and I still don't care. I love my career, but I love my kids more, and I never wanted them to grow up without a father like I did."
"You're a sap."
"And you're an emotionally stunted bitch. I thought we established this twenty years ago?"
"You're cranky today."
"It's barely four in the morning, Cristina. It's hardly even today yet, and you're waking me up and trying to get me to freak out about something I've known for years. Damn straight I'm going to be cranky."
"Fine, be cranky. What are we going to do?"
"About what?"
"About what? About Annie!"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing? You're just going to let her contact him?"
"Cristina, she's twenty-two years old. As much as I might want to, I can't protect her forever. If she wants to meet him, that's her call. I'm honestly surprised that she didn't do this the moment she found out four years ago. And who knows, maybe he's changed his mind in the last twenty-two years."
"Oh God, I'm hanging up before you start in on that old crap about how he's not a bad guy, he was just worried about his marriage, blah blah blah…this would be so much easier if you could just hate the guy like a normal, self-respecting woman."
Addison smiled and stood up as Derek approached the small table at the back of the restaurant.
"You're late."
"Clearly not." Derek kissed Addison on the cheek and they both took a seat. "Dr. Yang isn't here yet."
"She's not coming."
"Why not?"
Addison shrugged. "She left a message with the hostess. Something about a family emergency."
"Well, that's too bad." Derek scooted his chair away from the table. "I guess I'll see you back at the hospital, then."
"Not so fast." Addison motioned for him to sit down again. "Sit. We're having breakfast."
Derek sighed and took a seat. "I do have paperwork I could be doing, you know."
"And you think I don't?" Addison smirked slightly. "You're the one who left me with a stack of unfinished surgical reports to review."
"At least they're surgical. I'm dealing with dermatology staffing reports and oncology grants and…"
"And you love being in charge, admit it."
Derek frowned. "Okay, maybe just a little bit. But that doesn't mean I love paperwork."
Addison smiled and nodded. "So, just how disappointed are you that Dr. Yang couldn't join us?"
"What do you mean?"
"Oh come on, Derek. I'm not stupid. I know she did her residency at Seattle Grace, and I did the math. She was an intern in 2005."
"Addison…" Derek groaned.
"You were in Seattle in 2005."
"There were almost two dozen interns at Seattle Grace in 2005, Addison."
"Only six women out of twenty," Addison pointed out.
"How do you know that?"
"I called up Richard a few years ago, when I was out in Seattle for Ryan's surgery. It took a little cajoling, but he gave me a list. I've crossed off a few names over the years, and I've just got three left."
"How'd you get that?"
"Well, I met one at a conference a few years ago. Turns out she was married when she started her internship, and I knew after everything that had happened, you certainly wouldn't have chosen a married woman."
"I suppose I should thank you for at least giving me that much credit. How did you know off the other two?"
Addison smiled and pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from her purse. "Let's see," she said as she unfolded it. "Laura Miller turns out to be a lesbian. Alisa Gregory went into general surgery, but she died of cancer two years ago. I mentioned it to you then and you didn't even flinch."
"I should have figured you'd do something like this. Being married to a cop seems to have rubbed off on you."
"I just thought that maybe I could help if I figured out who she was." Addison shrugged nonchalantly but watched Derek's face very closely as she continued. "That just leaves us with Isobel Stevens, and Meredith Grey."
"What about Cristina Yang?" Derek asked. "You didn't say anything about her."
"Derek, you've been telling me everything I need to know since the minute I told you Dr. Yang wasn't coming," Addison said. "You've got a terrible poker face."
"This is ridiculous, Addison," Derek said in frustration. "What do you even expect to accomplish here?"
"Tell me about Isobel Stevens," Addison said. "Do you remember her?"
"Not really," Derek said. "I probably only interacted with her two or three times when I was working in Seattle, and I don't think I've heard anything about her since I left."
"Interesting."
"What? That was one sentence. You can't possibly have figured anything out from that one sentence."
"You doubt me?" Addison asked skeptically. "I have to admit that I'm surprised, Derek. Meredith Grey is not who I would have picked for your rebound girl."
"Don't call her that," Derek snapped defensively.
Addison smiled broadly. "I guess Meredith Grey is your infamous intern. That's enough for me today. So, are we going to eat or not?"