Author's Note: Yes, it really is another chapter. Already. Just in case you were thinking I'm on some amazing writing roll (or else I gave my muses a little too much caffeine) this was actually originally the second half of the previous chapter, but by the time it was all written, I realised it was more than long enough to be two chapters, and split in half easily as well. So you get two for the price of one.

And may I take this opportunity to draw your attention to a little one-shot I have recently posted entitled "Great Expectations" and is Addison's musings about coffee. As you will see if you read it, it's kinda different so I would love to hear what you think of it.

Disclaimer: As before.

When he got back to Addison's apartment, he let himself into the building – he had a key – and stepped into the lift. He was still struck by the opulence and beauty of the place every time he came, but at the same time, he was getting used to it, and he couldn't imagine Addison living anywhere else. It suited her down to the ground, and he ignored the fact, or at least, pretended to, that it was kind of beginning to suit him as well.

When the lift doors slid open, he wasn't greeted by the smell of food, burnt or otherwise, which he decided was a good sign. The huge space was dimly lit by only the fairy lights wrapped around the beams, a large lamp in the sitting area and a glowing fire, which he was rather impressed at – normally Addison made him get the fire going.

There was a bottle of wine and an extra glass on the kitchen counter, and he let his bag fall off his shoulder onto the floor and made his way over to it. In all honesty, he'd been fantasising about an ice cold beer, but the wine was right there, so…

Looking around, he could see Addison stretched out on her favourite couch, chatting away on the phone. She was wearing the same clothes she had worn to work, a smart grey pencil shirt and white tailored shirt, both of which hugged her body in a way that had made him lose concentration more than once during the day, but she had kicked her shoes off and they were lying haphazardly on the floor. She looked utterly relaxed as she leaned back, laughing about something and running her hand through her long red hair. It shone even brighter and more vividly in the firelight, and he was struck all over again by just how beautiful she was. God, he could watch her all night.

He poured himself a glass of wine and sat down next to her, lifting her legs up and draping them over his lap, absentmindedly running the back of his fingers up and down the smooth skin of her calf. How did she look so good after a long day at work? He never would get how she managed that. After a twelve hour shift, he invariably had a five o'clock shadow on his chin, bags under his eyes, and more often than not, bodily fluid of some unmentionable kind on his shoes, yet she was pristine.

After a couple of minutes of half-listening, he had got the gist of the conversation, and had worked out she was talking to Callie. He watched the view of the city at night while he waited for her to finish.

'Yes, it was good to talk to you too. I'm sorry for leaving it for so long and all that… Okay, I will sometime. No, no, I promise I will. And you'll have to come to London too… Take care babe.'

She put the phone down on the table next to her, and picked up her wine instead. 'Sorry about that. I didn't cook either I'm afraid, I sort of didn't get round to it. I was going to, but then I had a glass of wine, then Callie called, and…'

'No worries. It's too late to eat anyway. How's Callie? Any news from Seattle?'

'She's good. And not really. Apparently Miranda still hasn't found anyone to replace you yet. Richard and Adele had a big party for their thirty fifth wedding anniversary last weekend, and threw it in the hospital, like…like the Prom.'

Her voice didn't change, but he heard the tiny hesitation in her voice as she plucked up the courage to force the words out, so he leant forward, and kissed her on the closest piece of skin he could reach, which happened to be her knee. Just because it was a long time ago, and they were all over it, that didn't mean it couldn't still hurt. For both of them – Denny had died that night, and no-one who had witnessed Izzie's shellshocked grief could ever look back on that night with happiness.

She gave him a smile that told him she didn't want to dwell on it. 'And Meredith's getting really big now.'

'Cool.'

'How was the surgery?'

'Okay in the end, he's in the NICU now. Sorry I was so long; I was on the phone to Izzie for a bit.'

'That's nice.' There was no bite of jealousy in her heart when he said that, and she realised how far they had come in a short time. 'How is she?'

'Her usual self, completely irrepressible. She could tell something had changed.'

'Callie could too.'

'Well, at least it's Izzie and Callie – they're not exactly going to sit down and have a good gossip about it.'

Addison laughed. 'No, I can't really see that somehow.'

'She still found something to nag me about though; I don't know how I ever used to put up with it. This time, it was her second favourite subject; that I'm still living in a hotel. Apparently I need to have a home.'

They had been looking at each other, but Addison turned away and looked down into her wine pensively. He could tell she was thinking about something but he wasn't sure what. He hoped it wasn't the whole Izzie thing again. If he had his head around the Derek and Sloan thing, then she should be able to understand about Izzie.

When she met his eyes again, she looked like she had made some sort of decision, and silently, he braced himself.

'You could have a home… if you wanted.'

He frowned in confusion. He had no idea what the Hell she was talking about, but at least it wasn't what he had been expecting. 'Huh?'

'I mean, move out of the hotel.'

'Well, I know I could, but I've said before, I like it there. It's close to the hospital, and here, and…'

He was cut off by Addison cuffing him on the back of his head, seriously endangering her precious couch with both their glasses of wine. 'Hey! What was that for? That actually hurt a little bit.'

'Trying to knock a little bit of sense into you, you idiot. Listen to what I'm saying. I would give you a key to help you along, but you've already got one, so…'

Slowly, it began to dawn on him what she was getting at. He sat up and moved away from her a little so he could look her in the eye better. 'Hang on a minute, are you suggesting…?'

'Yes, yes I am. Well, I'm asking I suppose. Do you… would you like to move in with me?'

He stared at her, the wind completely taken out of his sails. Did she really say what I thought she did? He thought of what she was offering – a home – and all that entailed. And she was offering it to him… Unless the cod-like gape he knew he was currently sporting was unappealing enough to make her change her mind of course. He tried to work his mouth to form some sort of response but nothing came out.

'Alex,' she said nervously, 'I'd really like it if you said something.'

'I…' he managed to stutter, but couldn't get any further.

'Anything. But please say it soon. You're making me nervous. And I talk too much when I'm nervous.' She paused, seeing if he was going to fill the silence that was left, but when he didn't, she couldn't help but carry on. 'I know it's kind of soon, well, okay, it's really soon if you look at as if we've only been dating for a fortnight, but… It hasn't just been a fortnight, not really, I –'

Eventually, his brain started to function properly again as the shock wore off, and he found the word he needed to allay her nerves.

'Yes.'

She stopped rambling abruptly. 'What? What did you say?'

'Yes,' he repeated, and leaned forward until he could almost taste her. 'I want to live with you Addison. I'm saying yes.'