a/n (p1): mark and addison have never been together, addison and derek were married but aren't anymore, and there will be multiple ships in this but it is primarily mark/addison, some (okay, a lot or even most) of the history is different

a/n (p2): read anything by lynn ( sliceofperfection ) and you won't regret it; my personal fav is sick cycle carousal

Meredith hasn't ever really seen what the dynamic of family looks like seeing as how she grew up with a less than attentive mother and an absent father. The part that baffles her is that her sister's childhood was practically perfect in comparison yet she's the one with the picture worthy life as an adult. She thinks that the best part of Lexie's adult life might just be having her sister around, or so Meredith hopes.

Lexie has had a hard life since they've met. Her mother died, their father went off of the deep end, and her sister (the one Meredith barely knows) hasn't really been in contact as of late. Meredith wants to argue that Lexie should try to patch the fallout between their dad but she knows that part of Lexie's problem is that she cares too much.

Although at first Meredith had difficulty connecting with Lexie, they eventually fell into the connection where she could comfortably call Lexie her sister and be proud about. Lexie wasn't just nice, she was also smart but she cares a little too much for her liking. She knows for sure that Zachary really loves having an Aunt Lexie, even though he has plenty of other aunts.

Meredith never thought she'd see the day that she wished she didn't have to go to work because it meant not being home with her kid. Now the entire day at work, she finds herself missing Zach and sneaks by the nursery to peek into the window; she knows better than to try to go in there because she wouldn't be able to leave. It definitely took her less time to become accustomed to the role of motherhood than she had initially thought.

Zachary's first Christmas consists of him being effectively entranced by the lights that Derek insisted be put up, even if it is at the last minute. Amelia is supposed to pick up her mother and sisters at the airport while Derek and Mark last minute put lights on the house. Meredith's surprise that Addison didn't accompany Mark (and somewhat her disappointment as well) was cleared when Mark slipped that her parents and brother are in town; Derek laughed at the predicament while Mark's jaw tensed.

And Meredith thought her family was bad.

Zachary's hands circle Meredith's index fingers as he bounces in laughter and she can't help laughing as he does. She silently hopes that Lexie arrives soon because if anyone she knows can make the inside of the house look picture perfect for Christmas, it's her. Besides, she's been missing her sister's presence a little bit since they moved.

"Mer!" She hears a voice that she was expecting and the front door close.

She smiles when she sees Cristina, "hey."

"Lexie's still in the car. I hope you have alcohol. I'm not drunk enough for this," Cristina rambles.

Meredith laughs. Okay, she's missed Cristina too. Zachary claps his hands together at the sight of his godmother.

"You could have waited until I put the car into park," Lexie calls when she comes in.

"So, the Montgomerys are in town?" Derek shouts from the ground as Mark puts the light strand on the house.

Mark laughs lightly in the back of his throat, "and they're just as overwhelming as ever."

"Do you know how long they'll be here?" Derek inquires.

"I have no idea," Mark answers with a light shake of his head, "hell, they didn't bother to let anyone know they were going to be here until they were here."

"Sounds just like them. So do they know?"

"Know what?" Mark retorts, teetering on whether to play stupid or to be snarky. Either way, he's pretty sure that he doesn't exactly know how to answer any of the questions. He tosses a glance over his shoulder and grins, "that I'm sleeping with their daughter? I'm pretty sure they recounted everything I've ever done wrong in my life and remind me that I am in no way good enough for her."

"Eh, well," Derek comments with a sly grin, "Addison's too good for them."

"Archer was cooking breakfast in my kitchen yesterday morning. Wearing only his boxers," Mark says with slight disgust. He sighs and steps down the ladder to move it over more. He turns and lightly shakes his head again. "I'm pretty sure they still haven't learned boundaries. Might I add that they drank all of my scotch while telling me how horrid it was?"

"I didn't think they had standards when it came to alcohol," Derek muses. Mark climbs back up the ladder and reaches for the strand of lights, looking over their job so far and wondering how much they have left to do. Derek plugs in the next strand and the snow lights up with illumination. "So, I take it you won't be making it for Christmas..."

Mark sighs, "I can probably make it, not too sure if Addison will be able to sneak away."

"It's weird. We still haven't had a single Christmas without her."

"You can always extend the invitation, you know," Mark says teasingly.

Derek rolls his eyes, "oh goodie. Just what I want to be scrutinized by Addison's parents again."

"For old time's sake?" Mark asks with a grin.

"Yeah," Derek snorts, his laughter stifled with the slap of his gloves as he rubs his hands together for warmth. He lifts his hands to his mouth and breathes in hopes to capture that warmth inside of his gloves so his fingers will keep from stiffening. "I can't wait."

Mark smirks, "why do you always wait until the last minute to decorate for Christmas? You did it when we were kids. You did it when we lived in New York. You've been doing it for as long as I can remember."

"It isn't easy being the man of the house since you're nine," Derek replies easily; Mark's muscles tense in response and only find comfort in easing when Derek's lips slide into a smile.

"You have to quit playing that card, man. It's mean," Mark retorts with a light shake of the head. He releases a breath, smoke circling his lips as the warmth of his breath collides with the cool air, and he steps down the ladder. His feet crunch the snow below and he silently hopes the tread on his soles grab at something that has a hold. Mark pushes his hands into his hips and bends his knee, "switch. I have to ask you something."

"Shoot," Derek immediately replies; he moves the ladder over and climbs up it, extending his hand out for the strand of lights.

"Addison and I - do you think it's going to last?"

Derek's lips form a circle as he glances over his shoulder, "does these mean you talked to her?"

"Kind of, I mean, I don't think it went quite how I thought it would," Mark admits. Derek stares at him, eyebrows lifted on his forehead suggesting that his childhood friend should continue. Mark huffs and drags a gloved hand through his hair, his watch catching his sleeve before it can expose the skin of his wrist. "I told her I loved her and she didn't say anything."

"Okay, and?" Derek pries.

Mark's face doesn't budge and he stares at Derek, deadpanned; "how many times did you tell her that you loved her and she didn't say it back? In all of that time you were married - I bet you can't even count them on one hand."

"That's diff-" Derek stops talking at Mark's look and concedes. He gulps and returns back to his task at hand. "Still, you can't judge the relationship we had on the one you have. I don't think that's very fair."

"She said something that makes me think she might just be having sex with me because she can," Mark argues gently. His tone doesn't emit sadness, just one of admission, like it's been on his mind. He shrugs absently and forces a smile on his face before Derek can catch him without it. "I just don't think we're going to be doing what we've been doing much longer. Besides, there's still no baby. Maybe it's for the best."

"Maybe," Derek says neutrally.

Mason's had a tough year and all Charlotte wants for him is to be happy. She always thought Christmas was supposed to be a happy time, but Mason's been anything but thrilled. She understands why though. When her daddy died a few years ago, she had a difficult time being happy so she understands; Mason started the year with his mom and is ending it without her.

Throughout it all, Mason has been strong and barely shed any tears. In fact, he's even been fairly happy, but now that Christmas is here he can't be. She offers him small, reassuring smiles but he doesn't pay much attention to them. He certainly hasn't opened up to Cooper.

She hovers in his doorway at night, watches him sleep as the Christmas lights glow right outside of his window. She got him a few good presents, things that he'd said he wanted but never admitted. She just hopes that soon enough she'll get to see a smile on his face again.

Charlotte feels Cooper lean against the doorframe behind her and she takes the opportunity to settle back against him; maybe everything isn't okay right now, but they will be.

Teddy offers Henry a reassuring smile from the seat beside him, the large space of the airport echoing with every footstep that passes and every hushed voice around them. He smiles weakly, reaching over and covering her hand with his own. If he's honest, he hasn't been feeling well lately but it'll pass. It always passes so there's no use in paying it too much attention.

He's hot and cold at the same time, but winter is always like that. He needs to shape up because he's about to travel halfway around the world to meet his wife's parents for the first time. He breathes in a steady bout of air, letting his eyes trace a pattern of cracks on the floor.

Teddy checks her watch and returns her gaze to Henry, "are you nervous?"

"Not really," Henry says with a small laugh, "parents generally like me."

"Of course they do," she agrees with a grin. Who doesn't like Henry? He's a genuine guy and he managed to win her over without trying too hard. She feels his hand squeeze in hers. She tilts her head, "you're charming. It's very hard not to like you."

"That's right, it seemed to work on you," he agrees teasingly; he closes the space between them and lightly presses his lips against hers.

His chest only hurts a little bit; he's going to make it after all.

Addison listens as her brother's words jumble together like his tongue is numb and she lightly shakes her head because this isn't really what she had in mind. There are 3 drunk Montgomery's in her apartment and she almost can't even handle it anymore. She's been doing everything she can not to become her parents and looking at them all sip on their alcoholic beverages and talk about shit that doesn't really matter makes her glad.

There used to be a time that her brother was her world because he was there for her even when their parents weren't, but now he's becoming them. As Archer pushes himself to his feet and carries himself into the kitchen, she can't help but follow closely behind him. She doesn't mean to be so angry, forceful, but her family is driving her crazy and Archer is the only one she can take it out on.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asks him just above a whisper, voice releasing the anger that she's been trying to mask.

"I'm having another drink," Archer explains with a smirk.

She releases an exasperated sigh and tucks her hair behind her ear; for a moment, she thinks she ripped some hair out. She shakes her head, digging her fingers into her hip as she leans against the counter beside Archer. She leans down to try to meet his eyes. "You are turning into our parents. You said you didn't want to be like them when you grew up."

"Newsflash, Addie, we are them. I fuck everything that walks and you're all prim and proper," Archer replies with a laugh, "there's no way to avoid it. Just because you started fucking men beneath you doesn't mean that you aren't them."

"Excuse me, but Mark's family has money since that's what you define as beneath us and Derek does perfectly all right for himself considering where he came from. Not to mention, his mother did everything she could to make sure they all had a life worth living," Addison refutes.

"Save the speech, Addie. I've heard it thousands of times. Derek's mom raised them all to be successful doctors all by themselves and Mark practically raised himself," he counters. He perches the glass between his lips and gulps the entire glass down, refilling it by the time it hits the counter. He laughs bitterly, "I think sometimes you forget that they were my friends too."

"Were, meaning past tense. You left as soon as you could, telling me that you didn't want to become our parents, but look at you. You drink more than The Captain and you're more judgmental than Bizzy."

"Addison, don't you get it, we aren't cut out to be anything but them. I've spent my entire career traveling around the world trying to prove that I am better than them, that I'm not them. I've spent time in Africa, in South America, volunteering in third world countries so I don't become them, but at the end of it all I always feel the same. The dirt poor never leaves me no matter how many times I shower and I can't get the smell of blood out of my hands," Archer snaps. He narrows his eyes in her direction, lightly shaking his head. He shakes angrily as he lifts his glass, throwing it across the kitchen. "I'm beginning to realize it's so much easier to be like them than to prove that I'm not."

"You seem to do fine until you get around them, and I am so disappointed in you for that," she counters; turning on her heel, she reaches for the roll of papers towels to clean up his mess.

He lightly shakes his head, "like you seem to do any better."

"I'd rather be a little girl than an asshole," she spats.

"Whatever you say, Sis," he replies with a laugh.

He turns on his heel, goes in the opposite direction and makes damn sure to slam the door behind him. She tries to hold in the tears, sucking in a deep breath to stifle her emotions and keep them from falling out. She can't reflect her feelings on her face because the moment Bizzy comes in, she'll never hear the end of it for making Archer leave.

Everything is her fault; everything is always her fault.

"This is the last time," Amelia mutters into Alex's shoulder, "after this, we can't do this anymore. I need to get my life together."

"Okay," Alex mumbles. He feels her grab the hair at the back of his head and tug, his head nearly snapping at the neck. He smirks as her mouth falls open; he likes how rough she is because most of the women he's been with want it gentle and to have feelings. He thinks that's probably why he likes her more than any other woman he's met. "Tell me what you want."

"Don't play games, Alex," she replies with her own grin, "I don't have time. My family could walk in at any second and then you'll have to jump out of the window naked."

"But it's cold outside," he reasons.

She mutters as she closes her mouth over his, "better get the job done then."

He presses her harder against the wall, his ribs digging into hers, and it traps her hand between them. Her fingernails scrape against his waist as she tries to resume unbuttoning his pants. Finally, she pushes at his stomach so he releases some of the pressure and she can unbutton his pants.

She pushes him hard enough so the back of his knees hit the bed and she's tugging on his pants. He likes how fast things go with her, how she doen't bullshit and goes for exactly what he wants. The only thing he hates is how things are over nearly as quickly as they started, but then again, it's probably only because he's usually begging for it to be like that.

He laughs when she straddles his waist and finds that she's ready to go. She direct and quick to give what she wants. He's used to women playing games, and he hates it. He pushes his fingers into her hips as she sinks onto him; he knows that it's almost over because it usually doesn't take long.

He almost takes that as a compliment that she doesn't take long to get there. Her hand closes over his mouth and it's only then that he realizes maybe he was being a little too loud. He reaches up and wraps his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her down so he can press his lips to hers. In his experience, best way to muffle the noises.

Derek narrows his eyes from his place in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room as he sees Alex come down the stairs. He hears footsteps just above him through all of the conversations in the room and he lightly shakes his head as he prepares himself to let his sister know that she can't keep doing this at family gatherings. He stops himself when he sees Addison slip out onto the back porch out of the corner of his eye.

He ultimately decides to offer Amelia a warning glance as she descends the stairs before he follows Addison, making sure the door is shut behind him so the cold air doesn't get in. Neither one of them says anything at first, just that old familiar silence that used to exist between them in the old days before everything about the other person pissed them off. He thinks the best decision they made was to end their marriage before they hated each other and could no longer be friends.

He sits in the chair beside her while she leans against the railing, giving her the opportunity to speak first. He knows her well enough to know that when she wants to talk she will, but still sometimes she wants to be asked. She knows that he has no obligation to her anymore so he's only here because he wants to be.

"Thanks for inviting me," she says, barely audible.

"I'm sorry that your parents couldn't make it," he replies gently.

She can't help the laugh that falls out of her mouth, "no you're not. You hate them and they hate everyone who isn't them."

"Still," Derek says, "I'm sorry because I know it meant a lot to you that they were even here."

"They hate everything about me, Derek. They hate that I was married to you. They hate that I have anything to do with Mark. They think that I'm so much better than you when we all work just as hard. I don't blame you for hating them," she says; she releases a sigh, her breath carried in a cloud of frost through the sky. She turns a her gaze in Derek's direction, eyes glazed over with fresh tears. "Mark hates them. Hell, even I hate them."

"Mark doesn't hate them," Derek corrects, "Mark doesn't hate anyone. He hates the way they treat you, how every time they leave you hate yourself, that you're never happy when they're around, but he doesn't hate them."

"He's better than we are, isn't he?" She asks Derek.

Derek smiles his agreement in a way, the same way that he used to; "he doesn't judge and he helps the best he can. He's a great listener but not very good at talking."

"I love him, Derek, I really do but he's my best friend," she says. She turns her eyes back the view, the one she could never appreciate when they were married. She feels like she never gave anything a real chance, but they've all moved on now so it's too late. "What if we try and it doesn't work? What if we go all in and we hurt each other and then I don't have him anymore?"

"But what if you don't?"

"What if we do? What if he becomes distant? What if I become bored? What if we can't have kids? What if he cheats on me? What if I cheat on him? What if we can't repair the damages we make?" She narrows her eyes, the wind blowing through her hair , "what if he falls in love with someone else?"

"He's never going to love anybody else unless you let him," Derek leans further back in his chair. He offers her a small smile, reaching out and clasping her frozen hand in his own. His hand isn't much warmer, but he hopes that maybe he can offer hers some warmth. "He doesn't fall in love easily."

"I know, but it shouldn't feel so complicated, should it? Shouldn't it just feel easy?"

"No relationship is easy, honey," Derek replies with ease, "if they were, we'd still be married and in love with each other instead of other people."

She teasingly points a finger at him, "hey, I never said I was in love with him."

"But he said he was in love with you."

"I don't even know what he meant by that," she replies with a laugh, "that's ninety percent of the problem."

"You know he just says what he means. Don't read too much into it," Derek replies, pushing himself onto his feet. He offers her a smile as he leans forward and presses his lips against her temple. He lets go of her hand, silently hoping that she agrees to come inside. "Meanwhile, your sister keeps sneaking off into bedrooms to play with Alex Karev."

"My sister? No way, she's all yours," Addison replies with a laugh.

He chuckles, "she's always my sister when she's bad. Coming inside?"

"In a few minutes," she replies softly.

She leans against the rail and looks out at the moon, watching the snowflakes lightly fall to the ground. She thinks she's been losing control of her life for awhile, not sure where it's going or what she wants. Three months ago she just wanted to be a mom and now she kind of wants to be a family, but she doesn't think she can give anyone a family; after months of hormones and trying to conceive and still not having a baby, she's beginning to wonder her ability.

She could always go to the doctor, but truthfully she's been avoiding Jake since she started sleeping with Mark. She doesn't exactly know why. Maybe because they were trying to pretend like the only reason it was happening is because they wanted a baby and she didn't want to tell anyone. The only person there was no way she'd be able to hide it from was Jake.

It isn't like it was really anyone's business. Mark was her friend, her roommate, and nobody's boyfriend. Hell, she couldn't even remember the last time that either of them went on a date. For her, she knows it's been almost a year. The last date Mark went on was Lexie but he was more annoyed with her presence than anything else.

She considers asking him when she hears the door slide open behind her. She tosses a glance over her shoulder, just enough time to see who it is before shifting her gaze back to the sky. A shiver skates down her spine at the sound of his heavy heels echoing on the frozen wood.

"Want some company?" He asks as he clears his voice.

She shrugs, "if you want."

"Your parents left, huh?" He asks gently. He drapes his jacket over her shoulders and stuffs his hands into his pockets, leaning back against the rail for support. He offers her a small smile in hopes that it will reassure her. She nods dismissively and almost understands that it's her fault things never work out. "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm not going anywhere."

"Never say never," she replies with a smirk. She pushes herself upright and steps into him, feeling the urge to be closer to him and feel his warmth. She slides her arms through his and wraps them around his torso, feeling comforted when he returns the favor. "You're one of the good ones, you know?"

"I'm not," he refutes but smiles anyway, "I'm just better because I have you."

And it almost feels like her Mark, the Mark she's know for her entire adult life and gotten kicked out of class in college for talking to him even after telling him to shut up for the first half. It feels like the Mark she used to fall asleep with on the couch while Derek was at work and Derek would only smirk and wake them up and call them sleepyheads. It feels like the Mark that would press his lips against hers and tell her that any guy would be lucky to have her.

And she's scared because she doesn't know if he can be both Mark's at the same time.

But when he pulls back and tilts her chin upward, it doesn't keep her from meeting his mouth with her own as she finds the comfort in both versions of Mark at the same time.

Addison has her heels off by the time the elevator stops at her floor, but she can't help the sigh that she releases as the doors slide open to reveal her brother leaning against her apartment door. She shakes her head as she walks down the hallway, kicking her brother's thigh. She watches his eyes pop open and at the sight of her gives a lazy smile.

"Hey, you're back," he comments; he pushes himself to his feet.

"How long have you been out here?" She asks, sliding her key into the lock to pop the door open. He leans heavily against the doorframe until the door opens and he slips in before her. "You look like shit."

"And you look beautiful as always," Archer says with a smirk.

She sighs, "Archer, don't. I thought you left with Bizzy and The Captain."

"No, they left me here per my request," he says. He heads to the kitchen and when she lifts her eyebrow he stops reaching for the vodka. He stares at her for a long minute. "Where's your boyfriend?"

"Parking the car," she replies flately, "but you aren't here to talk about him, are you?"

"No," he says absently. He drops his hand to the countertop and traces lines in the marble as he tries to keep his eyes off of hers. He releases a heavy-hearted sigh and lifts his eyes back to hers. "Merry Christmas."

"You aren't here to tell me that. You could have called or sent a text if that's what you wanted to say," she counters.

"I ruined your Christmas, Addie, and I didn't mean to. You're the most important person in my life-"

She laughs, "I'm barely in your life anymore, Archer. You never stay."

"I'm staying now. I don't want to be a disappoinment for you," he counters, "I want to be someone you're proud of. I don't want you to hate me too."

"Fine," she replies with a light shake of the head, "but tonight we sleep."

He nods as she leads him towards Mark's bedroom door and they go to their separate rooms. She hears the bedroom door close behind her after a few moments and she turns to look at Mark over her shoulder. He pulls his navy sweater off over his head and tosses it into the pile on the floor.

"Unzip me?" She asks.

"Sure," he replies tiredly. He crosses the room and unzips her dress, his cold fingers grazing her back just between her shoulder blades. He moves to the other side of the bed and drops his pants to the floor. "You looked nice tonight."

"Thanks," she says with a small smile, "Archer's in your bed."

"He didn't leave?"

"No, I think he's really going to try this time," she replies. She pulls on his sweater and goes over to the bed, She looks at him as she grabs the sheet and lifts it in preparation for her to get into the bed, thinking of all of the things that's been holding her back. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," he replies immediately. He lightly tilts his head and stares at her, knowing what she's getting at. He laughs a little into the burrows of his throat. "I think I should sleep on the couch."

She swallows, lifts her head to scratch her eyebrow; "I think that that would be for the best."

He smiles and nods, walking around the side of the bed and pressing his lips into her temple before he leaves the room. She doesn't want to lose her friend Mark, doesn't want everything to go down hill. She'll do everything she can to keep from losing him completely and this is the only way she knows how.