"Oh!" Meredith Grey cried out, her sneakers squeaking as she skidded backward. She hadn't heard anyone approach the attending surgeon's break room, and she'd almost strode right into the person in the doorway. "Derek?"

It wasn't that she was shocked to see her husband. It wasn't that she wasn't. She didn't know which was true. The sharp breath she took brought her the scent of his aftershave, and he put his hands firmly on her shoulders to steady her. This wasn't a big deal. They might've been in this exact position before, except before she wouldn't be crossing her arms to control the instinct telling her to throw her arms around him. It subsided once newer memories fell over the old; the opposite of fresh snow falling over slush. She took another breath to swerve around the flash of annoyance, and the fact that it sort of revived the urge to smash her mouth on his. This wasn't a big deal. Not something she should get used to. Not something she could take for granted. Thirty-eight days had passed since she could've collided with him in the halls of the hospital, and there could be countless more to come.

"You're, early. You're supposed to be at the house." Finishing the wrapping.

"I'm going to get the wrapping finished."

"I didn't say anything about that!"

"Your eyes did."

She tightened her arms. She didn't want to think about what it meant that his ability to read her hadn't disappeared. It made her mind start replaying all the times he must've ignored what he saw—and even that was lying to herself. It wasn't a selective skill, or one he couldn't wield while he was raging. He'd used it. She wasn't going to be able to come to terms with that while they blocked the door to the lounge.

He definitely got some of that. How much, she wasn't sure. It felt like her thoughts had been on a runaway train since they picked him up from the airport, but another skill he'd honed was keeping pace with her, putting more effort into it than anyone ever had.

The weight of his palms let up, like he was giving her the option of shrugging her off. She didn't. "There aren't that many left, unless I'm misreading the chart."

"I've made sure they have plenty to dive into, don't worry."

"I wasn't…." Derek set his jaw. "I'm going to do my part, here."

"I didn't say you wouldn't."

"A good surgeon anticipates complications."

"And a presidentially-appointed one...?"

Meredith turned toward the kitchenette. Why did she keep doing that? He hadn't said anything uncomplimentary about how she'd handled their children over the past few weeks. And the more she did beat him to the punch, the more the jab that got past her defense would hurt.

""No, I'm…. You're not home to fight with me," she said to a finger-painted Christmas tree tacked to the fridge. Bailey had had green paint under his fingernails through two rounds in the tub. She'd finally dug out a nailbrush Friday night so Derek wouldn't think she didn't keep them clean, and then been afraid he'd know, somehow, and accuse her of being a Grinch for scrubbing away a sign of the she? For not getting on that plane two weeks ago, and trying to get through this? It was taking longer than a weekend, but that was with hitting pause constantly to focus on their tiny Whos.

"I'm not. I didn't come up here for that, either."

"Why, then?"

The break-room fridge used to contain overflow art. Drawings that came with "Mommy, can we put it up, now?" and you knew there were no free magnets at home. Looking at it, you might assume ZOLA SHEPHERD and B never went home. A couple of TUCKs stood out among them, but they were all out-matched by SOFIA S.-T., especially considering was the primary contributor to two additional refrigerators. Sofia had been the one to cause the surge beyond the usual post-Halloween increase in production, by determining that because anyone could see these pieces, it was "like being a museum artist."

"I, uh, have to tell you something."

She snapped her gaze back to him, not fast enough to explain why her head started spinning. Two days until Christmas. He wouldn't…. There are two days until Christmas.

"It's not bad."

"I didn't…." She cut herself off again. Lying was delaying a fight.

"Yeah, you…it'd probably be a fair assumption, but this….It'll be good, I think."

Not biting her lip had been a conscious choice. She let it curl. "What is it, Derek?"

What did you do? He wouldn't take it playfully, if she said that, like he used to. When she was teasing, not accusing. Her mind insisted that the swirl of feelings the memories ignited was worth her relief at his uncertainty. If it was bad—truly bad, midnight-thoughts-at-dawn bad—he'd know.

"It's sort of a long story,, but the gist is—"

"Hold on." She reached for her buzzing phone. Get out of my way. "Never mind. I'm listening."

"You're on shift. Check it."

"I wouldn't be, only, April…." She'd taken on a lot of the blanks April's early leave had left in the schedule. It'd felt like the right thing, when she'd spent that day trading hers, arranging to run away, and then not doing it.

"I know," he said. She'd forgotten his hands were on her shoulders until he squeezed one of them. She wished he didn't. Except, that wasn't true. It wasn't true at all.

Her phone buzzed again. The text notification that had been there was replaced by another.

AMELIA SHEPHERD: WHAT IS HAPPENING?

She swiped it open out of curiosity. From anyone else, she'd worry the drama was called for; injury, fire, gunman…okay, that Amelia would be serious about, but she didn't have a code alert, and the day-care wouldn't have moved down the list without her and Derek having missed calls. "Just your sister."

His eyes went wide, and he raised one hand, moving it as though he was going to push her wrist down, and then aborting to brush over his hair. Not the dismissal she expected. "Mer…."

AMELIA SHEPHERD: supposedly u were a party girl, y/y?

did u ever do hallucinogens? i might've been dosed

otherwise herman's tumor is contagious.

im a neurosurgeon. it's not.

& yr husband isn't replying

which makes me think I might have actually just SEEN MY MOTHER

WHAT IS HAPPENING?

"Derek Christopher Shepherd," Meredith started, and then tapped the picture Amelia had sent her of Owen speaking to a woman with memorable, cropped, white hair. "What did you do?"

"I, uh…that's my mom." His chagrinned expression was so Zola, which was how she could stay stern in the face of it.

"No shit?"

He sighed. "She wanted me to go up to The Pen for Thanksgiving."

He and his older sisters had gone in for house in upstate New York he and his sisters had gone in for together while Meredith had still received an allowance—An actual one, not just access to Ellis's credit card—It was supposedly a cottage, but since more than thirty people could sleep there, Meredith didn't think it qualified. That they called it The Pen, "where the Shepherds gathered," made her privately think of it as The Penitentiary.

"But I'd already taken off for Zola's birthday, and there was a storm…and…I would've hated being up there without my family." The smile was quick, and Meredith wasn't sure it hadn't been a trick of her surprised blink. "When she claims I'm the only one who won't be there, it's never true. It still wasn't, because Amy, but otherwise…."

"All of them?" It made Meredith think of the Muppet Family Christmas special she'd loved growing up. She wouldn't have been surprised if they hadn't found a kid sleeping in a closet once or twice. Probably not on a hanger, like Gonzo, but it was still a great image.

"Every last lamb." Using that family gem did make him—Shit, she was becoming one of them—look sheepish. "Ten college kids. No…." His eyebrows went down, an arrow pointing toward the tip of his nose, and his lips twitched as he calculated. "Allie's a resident, two grad students, one in med school. Stevie's still waitressing, thank God she's Kath's. Seven still in college—one who's in the middle of a year abroad. Only three left in high school. Assorted significant others. No mono, no appendectomies, no budding activists boycotting to a colonialist holiday, or not seeing the parade. And their moms are all very thankful, because it means they're getting away with spending Christmas elsewhere. In-laws, Aspen, Antwerp. I don't know, theyscattered, and Mom decided that she'd take off, too."

Again, Meredith thought of that Muppet special, and Fozzie Bear's mother planning to go to Malibu before her son's surprise visit. Except, this was the reverse situation. Listening to Derek list off the details of his nieces and nephew's lives could be as overwhelming as having a crowd of frogs, and dogs, and whatever charging into her life, but she loved that he could do it. He'd distanced himself after leaving New York, knowing he'd disappointed a baker's dozen's worth of kids. He'd avoided calls from all of his sisters, not just Amelia, but when he did talk to him, he always asked about the kids. He was closer to Liz and Kathleen's broods, since they'd lived closest, but could rattle off all their stats like he was reading off of baseball cards, except his words were brought to life by the animation in his face. It'd told her a lot about what he'd be like as a dad.

It'd told her more about how he loved.

"The Pen's not entirely empty. Carly's husband doesn't have much family, Ally's wife doesn't get along with her parents, Mackie's single, and Stevie hates her grandparents on Reid's side…. I thought Mom was all set to host a Grand-Shepherd Christmas. The next thing I knew she was going on about letting the youngest generation have their fun, and she'd emailed me her flight itinerary."

Meredith had questions. Many, many questions. She could read eyes too, and his were shifty. His posture had become shifty. He was being McShifty. There had to be more to it. Had to be. "She's here now."

"Just in time for the kids' holiday party," he agreed, smiling. "It'll be an adorable first impression."

"Until the sugar crash." She refused to be distracted that easily. Not that she was immune to the image. She tilted her phone toward him, and it flashed the picture she'd taken on the ferry that morning. Ha. He was the one melting. She didn't need to. She'd had the cute, cuddly kids for the whole season. "When did she send you that flight information?" she asked, determined to outpace him at his own game.

His shoulders rose in a cringe, and he didn't meet her eyes until she slipped her phone into her coat pocket. "Ah…Monday."

"What? Today is Monday! You've known for a week?"

She lunged at him, not unlike she'd wanted to when she'd first seen him. Not like she'd imagined the night she'd taken a box of some of her mother's unsightly souvenirs that she'd meant to put on eBay and never gotten around to and smashed them. She'd found his stupid baseball bat for it, but where he'd ended up picking up beer cans while going over the yard for her engagement ring, she'd put down plastic. They had kids who didn't need to step on shards of mass-produced pottery. Amelia might have taken it as proof that she was insane, and that was without knowing she half-wanted the touristy garbage to be her brother's skull. More than that, she'd wanted him to appear in the driveway so she could call him a goddamn lemon. (She worried it was proof that he'd been right. Like she was a bomb with a twisted wire that made it go off too late, saving lives.).It'd mostly cured her of her desire to hurt him like he'd hurt her. Physically, she didn't think she could do it, but that level of rage was one she couldn't have felt toward anyone else. That realization was complex,

This, she figured he could deal with.

He held his hands up, catching her shoulders again. "Hey, it's okay. Listen, would you have benefited froma week's notice? Truly? You get so stre…intense over giving the kids a good Christmas. I figured you could use a last minute pair of hands, but it wouldn't…. There wouldn't be time for it to throw your plans off too much."

Goddamn it.

This time, to give in was to shrug him off. "You underestimate my ability to ruminate," she mumbled. Crap. She hadn't meant that the way he'd take it. She focused in on another painting, dots of white made on top of a red heart, probably to make sure they stood out on the white paper. From here, she couldn't see the signature, but in actuality it wasn't necessary. The snowflakes weren't unique; they'd lead back to their maker.

She hadn't had to say anything for him to know she overthought everything. Admitting, even unintentionally, that her primary topic lately had been them felt like giving him ground. But where? They were deep in trenches in No Man's Land.

"Mine too." He said it so softly, and everything else, her thoughts, her pulse, the noises from the hall, the buzzing refrigerator, was so loud that she wasn't sure he'd meant her to hear. She looked back at him anyway. He smiled. "Plus, I couldn't give Amelia time to run."

"I could've sicced Owen on her."

"I guess I underestimated your problem-solving skills, too." He closed his mouth, and his jaw muscle clenched, like maybe he thought she'd take that the wrong way.

She had failed to solve their biggest problem. If you really followed the thread back, she'd caused it. A year ago when the president called, she'd been blowing up at Cristina at how static her work had become. (For all she'd love to blame him, Obama was more of an instigator.) Wasn't that same jealous why she'd refused to move, fundamentally? A hateful, hopeless jealousy.

But they weren't hopeless. If they were, he wouldn't have brought his mom home for Christmas. Right? With Addison—Stop it. There's no point in going over it again. But she did. All the time with him gone, her research scraped, and having the kids full—

"Is he spending Christmas with us?" he asked.

"No, I didn't invite the guy who lives in our woods." Oh, come on, Grey. Derek was here, now, not fighting with her, smiling at her, and she couldn't focus enough to stop filtering her responses through annoyance at herself?

"His mother lives in town."

Yeah, he's avoiding her."

"Again?"

Meredith snorted, hitting send on a text to Amelia. "Right? This time, she had the secret. His name is John."

"Oh. Wow." Derek squinted and tilted his head, in that way where he looked like it might tip the information into the front of his mind. "Wasn't he ten when his dad died?'

"Maybe?" She had no idea, and even though it'd probably come up because it was something they had in common, and Derek wasn't sure himself, it made her feel like an ass. "He's... protective. I can see you... well, you wouldn't have... Your mom is different. Your mom is…here. For Christmas."

One corner of his lips quirked higher, an ah, there it is, and again, it didn't make her want to deck him. It was reassuring. Stupidly so. "Amelia's mom is here. The kids' grandma is here—all the kids, including Sofia. She'll be way more interested in them than you. Not …that she's not…I don't mean that as…anything."

"No, I get it. It's, um…reassuring. She's not…?" She closed her eyes, hoping to disconnect the wire that kept feeding her thoughts straight to her mouth. "Okay, the kids' thing is at five. I'm gonna try to be downstairs then, but it might be, like, five-thirty. Zola knows that."

"Yeah, I know it, too. Mom's not what?"

"Um…. Mad at me? It's fine if she get it," she amended. What was one more angry Shepherd? She could handle it. She stuffed her hands in her pockets to stop twisting her fingers. "Just, I'd like the head's up."

"Why would she be...? Oh. No. She might be more…. Well, she knows we're making it work." He raised an eyebrow. "Aren't we?"

"I think so." Do you? Don't you? She might be what? She wasn't going to push him to finish that, in case it was going somewhere totally elsewhere, but had he been going to say his mom would be more mad at him/ Why? He was her son, and he was director of the National Institutes of Health's BRAINN Initiative. A mom didn't get mad about that. Well. Hers might've. Talk about a hateful jealousy.

"Good. I'm going to go track her down. See you at the party?"

"You will," she agreed.

And then, he put two fingers below her chin, tipped it upward, and kissed her. Not a big deal. Except, it was real. Not perfunctory, awkward, or provoked. Over the weekend, there'd been a quick kiss in the arrivals lane at the airport, with the kids squealing for attention, and employees waving her forward. There'd been aZola Says it's Goodnight Kiss Time kiss over the head of a giggling preschooler, and in his eyes she'd seen only her concerns mirrored back at her: what does she know? Are we scaring her? This morning, she'd debated the I'm Going to Work and Taking the Kidskiss from the moment she'd woken alone in the huge-ass bed, and questioned it in every second their lips weren't touching. This kiss was easy to accept and give back to. It lasted long enough for her to relax into it, her lips parting slightly. It was a Running into Each Other in the Halls kiss, a habit she hadn't appreciated until it'd been broken.

He ended it softly, his smile almost shy, and then nodded upward. "Mistletoe."

She stared at the bauble until he'd cleared the threshold.

He'd kissed her because he had to, but not like he had to . Was that a good sign? A bad one? Had he had to, with no one to observe? You could never be sure of that, around here. That might not have stopped him from walking away and leaving her to notice the decoration herself. The idea made her stomach clench, but if they'd been presented to her as hypotheticals, she would've identified what'd just happened as the fantasy.

His mom was here. He wouldn't want her to see how wrong things had become. His mom wasn't here. She'd never know if he'd kissed Meredith under this particular sprig of mistletoe. Meredith would've played nice—been nice, either way.

He'd kissed her like he wanted to.

She didn't want to be led askew by hope.

Her phone buzzed. This time the message said her patient was waking up. He wouldn't be discharged before Wednesday, not due to any complications, but because he'd asked her to keep him. He was a nineteen-year-old Chron's patients, and would be on a restricted diet for another few months. Apparently, there were relatives who made an ordeal about him becoming "picky," and what a shame it was; the hollow leg he'd had as a child. From there the arguments dominoed on to subjects from before he was born. Next year, it'll be okay. Mom won't have to make me a separate meal, and I'll be able to make them shut up.

Meredith figured that either that would be true, or the event would blow up anyway, proving that he might be a catalyst, but he wasn't the cause. While she'd briefed the parents, who'd immediately started considering skipping the whole ordeal and ordering takeout, her intern had looked at her as though she'd knowingly told someone their benign cancer was malignant. The other day, a member of the same cohort had whispered something about a chill during her rounds, and she'd remembered the professor she used to call Jacqueline Frost. Was she a narcissist misconstruing an idle reference to the temperature? Or would her nickname be Elsa once more of them had seen the movie that had been Zola's first in theaters?

Whatever else they called her, she needed to focus on being Dr. Grey for a few more hours. Then, she'd be Mommy. Meredith could wait.

Funny, her mother must've had the same thought on every December twenty-third.

The elevator was taking for-freaking-ever. Grey+Sloan's campus was spread out rather than built up, but Meredith could believe they'd started and stopped thirty times, not three, by the time it reached the lobby. She strode off, resisting the urge to pause and take a breath after being the creepy antsy lady for the whole ride.

She should have done that. Maybe then she would've been prepared to find Derek at the mouth of the elevator bay. He couldn't keep just being here like that. As she approached, she almost thought he hadn't recognized her, but no. She hadn't recognized his expression. It wasn't unfamiliar, she just hadn't seen it in a while. She felt like an intern again, but Tuck was with his dad and Miranda had taken Meredith's last rounds. She wasn't going to show up to run interference.

She had another Bailey for that.

"Mama!"

"Hi, sweetie!" She leaned in to kiss the baby. Up close, Derek's eyes were even brighter, and they were on her. It made her knees wobble a little. It was what she'd hoped for, booking that ticket to Dulles. There was no sign of the storm that had grounded her.

"He wanted to come meet you."

"Did he?"

"Yup. Also, he's not so sure about seeing this Grams person in real life, are you, Bay?" Derek deflated a little. "Kinda makes me wonder…, well, never mind. Daddy was the more familiar option."

"He's only ever seen to her on the iPad," Meredith pointed out. "A few times a month. You rarely missed a night. It's not the same. I bet Zola was shy with her, too."

"A little," he admitted. "You look beautiful, by the way." His eyes flashed again.

"Zola insisted that I had to get new party clothes, because 'working people always dress up.'" She shrugged, running her hands over the plaid jumper.

"I like the way our kid thinks. Not sure the ponytail is high enough," he added, flipping her hair. "You could've been Cindy Lou Who."

"Wrong holiday." She couldn't resist running her hand through the ponytail after him, and she pulled it around at the last minute, pretending she'd been examining the ends. "I need to get it cut. Might go darker."

"Don't! It's your choice," he added, holding his hand up. "Just. I love your hair."

That was the problem. She couldn't fix her hair in the morning without thinking of him calling her Goldilocks, or flashing to that first night where he'd used it to defend calling her honey, or just leaning in to put his stupid nose in the way. He blinked, a flash of understanding on his face. She locked her arms to keep from crossing the around her chest.

"Hair," Bailey said, tapping his head.

"Good job, buddy—!"—"That's right, hair—!"

Their voices tripped over each other in they praised him, and the toddler's eyes went wide. Meredith stroked his curls reassuringly. "You might be ready for a haircut, too, sweetling. Maybe Daddy could take you this week?"

"First haircut? We could do that." Derek pressed his lips to Bailey's head. "I took your sister for hers."

Technically, he'd given Zola hers, to put in the shunt, but he'd also taken her for the real thing. Still, for all they tried to treat the kids equally, that didn't mean "identically." There were certain things she known he'd wanted to do with his son without being sure he'd have one. She was discovering specific things she wanted to share with Zola. Before they'd had her, her imaginings about having a daughter had been about what she'd wanted to give her. Love, attention, encouragement. It might've been easier if he was the one who didn't think in terms of milestones.

"I would've neatened him up a little, if I'd known we were having company."Crap. She had to stop baiting him. Had her thoughts drifted too close to the freaking fly-fishing stories?

"Nonsense! We match, don't we Derek Bailey?"

Derek Christopher's reaction to hearing his mother's voice put a genuine smile on Meredith's face. She wondered if Bailey would startle and cower in her presence at almost fifty years old. Picturing him that grown was harder than believing she'd make it to eighty-four. She hoped for that, but she wasn't sure she wanted the exact experience. Intimidation wasn't something she wanted to inspire.

Derek's face shifted to fondness, and she remembered that this was the farthest thing possible from the right time to question his mother's parenting, even in her head. Her mother-in-law was striding toward them like a true New York native, and Meredith took a breath, prepared to give off a more put-together air than she had on their first meeting when he grabbed her wrist.

"For you," he murmured, and with her hand held gently behind his back, his fingers guided a ring onto one of hers. Her ring. Carolyn was here, and he was giving her the ring. The irony was palpable. He squeezed her hand before letting it go, and reaching out toward his mother. "Ma, what are you doing out here?"

"What does it look like? You missed a carol, and I told Zola I'd find you. Seemed like she wanted me out of earshot so Sofia could tell her more about dealing with grandparents. Specifically 'surprise grandparents,' I believe."

"Ah, yeah. Callie's dad's reappearance'was definitely a surprise." His shrug said what Meredith was thinking: surprise grandparent was better than stranger grandparent, which was what Sofia had initially called Carlos.

"During the malpractice trial, yes, I recall," Carolyn said, unsubtly reminding her son that she'd kept herself involved in Mark's daughter's life. "Has her mother been in touch?"

"No. And I think…I think if she comes around, it's gonna take a lot for Callie to buy that it's not because of the divorce."

"That's despicable. Shutting a child out because they're adding love to the world? Not wanting to know her grandchild? I don't understand it."

"I don't think any of us do." Derek put his hand on Meredith's back. He didn't do that a minute ago, to ensure she stayed in place at the sight of his mother, but then, in a gesture of silent support. Meredith wasn'tall that open about being bisexual, and it wasn't something she'd ever told a parent. But Sadie had been running around the first time she'd visited, for all she knew Carolyn's uncanny ability to read people had put together pieces no one else had. Two in the herd of lambs openly identified as not straight; she'd known Carolyn wasn't blatantly homophobic. To be fair, her mother hadn't been, either, but she would not have called it "adding love."

"Sofia has his eyes," Carolyn murmured, at least unaware of Meredith's thought trajectory.

"Yeah." Derek swallowed. "She does."

Meredith put her hand on the arm he was using to hold Bailey, and then shifted it to the leg of the baby's denim overalls. "Ready to go into the party, B?"

"Yes! Get cookie!"

"Mommy's here, so we'll take you to get a cookie," Derek agreed. "They put the snacks in the pre-k room, behind a baby gate. I assume because they've met your son."

"He knows better than to reject free food." There was no way to claim that he got the sweet tooth from Derek, unless it was recessive.

"Funny, he didn't seem interested in the veggie plate."

"Is there cheese?"

"Cheese!" Bailey grinned. Meredith laughed. She didn't know if he thought a picture was coming. or if he was excited for the weirdly addictive cubes that had been at the past few open house events. Maybe both.

"You've never been anti-cheese, Derek," Carolyn said.

"Goodcheese. Real cheese."

"Eating Kraft singles doesn't mean I bought in the milk fairy propaganda," Meredith protested. Derek shook his head.

"I assure you, I put worse things in front of you," his mother said. "Spend some time Googling recipes from the seventies, and consider that I had five children. My parents who lived through the Depression. I was served au gratin and Jell-O." She wrinkled her nose. "Disgusting."

"All right, I'm bested. Let's go get the mouse a cookie." Derek dropped his hand from Meredith's back, and then held it out to her. His wedding band glinted in the light coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows. It hadn't been there upstairs, she would've felt it on her shoulder. Part of the reason he mimicked her in hardly wearing it had been to save her the adjustment period. There'd been a time when seeing a ring on his hand had made her flinch; a half a second's where the grief, nausea, and desire to throw things was visible. He'd put it on for his mother. It served the same purpose that one had; telling the hospital his marriage wasn't over. All of those reasonable associations were overshadowed by the way he'd watched her in the elevator bay.

Before she could slip her fingers between his, Carolyn stepped forward. "You boys start moving," she instructedI need to say a proper hello to Meredith."

Derek looked to her for a second opinion. Was that significant? She couldn't keep questioning his meaning and motivations; she was about to park at crazy. She'd been sure she knew them all six weeks ago, and forged ahead. She wanted to believe she'd missed forks in the road, and there were still u-turns to make. She just needed to tone it down.

She inclined her head and as she turned to Carolyn, he darted in to kiss her cheek. It wasn't weird. It shouldn't be weird. It was not what she'd expected from him. Not after Zola's birthday.

"Mwah, Mama!" Bailey demanded, and his smacky swipe gave her a reason to put her hand to her face.

"Your bringing up a very sweet boy there," Carolyn said. "Now, I know you're not a hugger, but—"

"Oh, no, It's fine. I'm…. It's…kids," Meredith stammered. It wasn't the incoming embrace that had her discombobulated, and she tried to get that across. "It's good to see you."

"That, I'll believe." Carolyn hugged quickly and fiercely. Nothing like Derek wrapping his arms around her and tightening them from there. He didn't hold her like she was fragile, but it was a contrast to Carolyn's assumption of strength. She lingered in her own way, taking Meredith's elbows. "But don't tell me I'm not an imposition."

"We're…sort of accustomed to unexpected family. One more for Christmas isn't any trouble."

"Hm. You haven't become a better liar, dear. This isn't something I planned for, either, but realizing my eldest granddaughters were old enough to be hosting Christmas…. I've watched all of them grow up, now they're having children. I'm a tough old broad, but I won't be around forever. I panicked at the thought that I'd held my grandkids' babies and not my son's."

"I—"

"That's not your fault. There hasn't been a year where a visit has been practical."

"That's…. Well, when Liz came up…."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "You don't encounter patients whose children think they know exactly what their parents think?"

"I do." When Chron's patient, Riley, had put forth his first argument, that his mom considered having to fix separate food for him to be a chore, she'd argued with him. She'd once believed she'd never use a cookie-cutter on a peanut butter sandwich—using a cookie-cutter on cookie dough was rare enough—but now Zola's grin was usually worth the extra twenty seconds.

"I told the girls it was too soon to expect you all to get on a plane, and that was before we knew you were expecting! No, dear, this is my concern."

"Is there a concern?" If there were, she wouldn't blame Carolyn for wanting to see her youngest children and grandchildren, or not telling Derek, but it would affect how Meredith shaped what she said to her kids.

"Nothing more than you'd expect from a seventy-seven year old body." Carolyn put her arm through Meredith's and started off. If she wanted to prove her strength, it worked. The only choice was to walk with her. "I appreciate your candor. I've had ten versions of that conversation, and they all dance around it like disco's back in town." Her eyes laughed like Derek's whenever he tried to dish out mockery with a straight face. "Now, Derek says you were at the helm of refurbishing the child care center, and from what I've seen, it's excellent. Tell me about that."

"Oh, uh, well, we bought the hospital…and it was right after.…Callie was staying here almost every night, and if she was with Arizona, Derek was with Mark. I never minded having both girls, but they were too little to understand, and…we were moving, and…honestly, I don't think Derek or I had realized how much we'd relied on Lexie. She wasn't ready to be a stepmother, but she was great at being an aunt. Having twenty-four hour care lets Derek and I…mostly let us take the same night on-call, and be home the rest of the week."

"That makes sense," Carolyn said, as they turned the corner that put the door to the Grey+Sloan Child Care Center in view. "The hours aren't all you changed"

"They're…. No, they're not." Meredith wasn't sure why admitting that felt more awkward than the fact that she'd arranged to be able to put her children in someone else's hands twenty-four/seven. "You know I grew up here? Not in Seattle, here, here-here. Mom and I moved the year I started school."

"And you were in the day-care?"

"Supposedly." Carolyn pulled away slightly. Her stern expression was familiar, but it wasn't Derek's. It was Amelia's. "I'm sure I was there more than I remember. They didn't really cater to the surgeons' kids, though. Hardly worked for nurses. Open from seven to five. No after-school, no holidays. Mom was a resident, and in those days…well, you'd know, all your kids worked hundred-twenty hour residencies. To me, the hospital was an extension of home, and I preferred it." Who wouldn't? At the house, she'd been equally alone, and Thatcher hadn't been nearly as interesting. "The surgical floor and cafeteria were mine. I'd color at the nurses station while Mom ran the E.R. I learned to read sitting in galleries. I played Arctic Expedition in the morgue."

Carolyn laughed, and not like she thought Meredith couldn't be serious the way some people did.

"What I remember about day-care is trying to escape it. Everything from simply squeezing out the door to coloring my skin red and saying I needed surgery. Then, I started using purple, because that's what it took for them to open people up."

"Internal bleeding. Ingenuitive."

"Hm. Not the reaction I got. Didn't matter. I loved the little world I had upstairs. I felt safe. I wasn't, I know, now. They tried," she allowed, thinking of times she'd been whisked out of the way of gurneys, and the staff who'd help her with the trays that went on Ellis's tab, ask her about her drawings, surprise her with gift store knick-knacks that she'd squirrel away after the first time Ellis chastised her for accepting them.

"We want our kids to be comfortable upstairs, but not on their own. Especially not at this age. They should want to be here, and they should know they're not being kept from their parents. That…I worried about it more with Zo than…than I might've otherwise. Keeping night-time setup from seeming like an institution was important to me, but also, even the pre-k room felt more like a playroom than a school. She's so smart. She was outpacing them." She entered that month's code for the center's door. The reception area already had a significantly different atmosphere to the hallway they'd left.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Grey," chirped Miri, the front desk security worker, who was decked out in a sweater decorated in dreidels, and menorah earrings that flashed all eight candles.

"Hey, Mir. Humoring the goys?"

"Tell you the truth, this tacky thing is comfortable." She plucked at the sweater with one hand and tapped her tablet with the other. "I didn't mind having an excuse to wear it for another day, and getting to make latkes for the deprived twice in a month is a delight."

"Derek didn't mention they had those, I would've gotten here faster. He'll hear about that." Everything she could say to him that wasn't serious was welcome. "We good to go in?"

"Oh, sure. Got you and your mom-in-law on record, no teacher to buzz. Parties are easy for me, until everyone wants to leave at the same time."

"We'll try not to be part of the rush." It was fifty-fifty as to whether the kids would want to go home immediately, or delay until they were the last on the floor. Meredith could empathize with either. "It's gonna confuse Bailey's crew next year when the centerpiece isn't a menorah," she told Carolyn. "But up until we redid the curriculum they still talked about Ramadan as a winter holiday."

"Wasn't that some time in July?"

"Yeah, roughest month to be fasting. You're allowed to drink water, but we still get a few cases of dehydration in the E.R. If you're not eating it's easy to lose track, and…you were a nurse. To be…maybe more fair than she deserves, when former director took the job, it might've been in winter, but that really doesn't matter. Cultural sensitivity was sort of…handwavey. Curriculum in general was. The choice was, revamp or start looking at Pre-Ks."

The large room that served as a gym and playground on slippery days was ahead of them. On one side, it connected to the two rooms for after-schoolers to do their homework or play, and on the other it led to the walled-in playground. Before they could pass through the double doors, Carolyn tugged her to the right. "Zola took me to her classroom. Show me the rest."

"It's not much," Meredith hedged. "Library, kitchen, staff room. Quiet rooms for littles who need a break or bigger kids wanting to study or read. And…this." It was what her mother-in-law had been after, and Meredith couldn't decide if that made her afraid it'd seem like too much or not enough. She inputted another code next to the door labeled Sleepytime Suites. (For the record, that had not been her choice.) "Staff scan badges to get in faster in an emergency. On any one night they're not going to have a massive amount of children, but they will have siblings, or kids like ours and Sofia who are accustomed to sleepovers."

The first room on this hall was the Starlight Suite, named for the mural on the far wall. Flicking on the light turned off the dimmer that doubled as a night-light. Inside was as much like a bedroom as they could make it, with two wooden L-shaped bunkbeds with steps and specially-made gates. The wheeled crib matched, making it nothing like those upstairs. Zola had been perfectly happy gnawing on the metal bars, but they'd still made Meredith think of a prison more than ever had before. A glider rocker sat against the wall, near a bin that held an assortment of toys, and the two-stalled bathroom was a Jack-and-Jill attached to the next room over.

"If their adults can't take them for dinner, they sit with their little cohort, have evening playtime together, that kind of thing. We have a nursery, but Zo did better with B in the room, even with someone coming in to feed him. It's not their rooms, with their bed and toys, but they have their bedding and PJs."

"That's lovely," Carolyn said. "It's truly a second home."

"That's…That's the goal," Meredith swallowed. "There are hiccups. No kid likes unexpected overtime. We… They limit the amount of nights they can stay each week, especially consecutively, and guardians have to make regular appearances. So far, that hasn't been an issue. Especially with…well, this was my idea." She led her mother-in-law to a door. It looked like the supply closets on either side of it, except for barcode scanner next to it. Meredith tapped her iD against it.

"Is that…?"

"Yup." She picked a key out of the bunch on her lanyard and turned it, the only way to call disguised freight elevator. "This is the only floor where the car's back-door opens, and only on this side. It's designed to make it as easy as possible to respond to a page particularly in the ER, which is where the front door leads on this floor. We tried to come up with every way someone could say it's a liability, and so far the complaints have been limited." Several times, especially while Bailey was nursing more than once a day, she'd wished she could walk straight through from the ER side, but that upped the risk significantly. The times she'd been able to have dinner with her kids and participate in some amount of their bedtime routine had made any hassle worth it. "If there was another lockdown, I'd want to break this door open to get to them." She let the ersatz closet door shut. "But in that case, the staff puts a key in the call lock, so the car won't move or open onto the E.R. side. There were plenty of consultants involved, and life has a way of highlighting what I've missed—"

For the third time that day, she faced eminent collision with a Shepherd as Carolyn grabbed her other arm to face her. "I'm sure you've had worriers, but to me it seems you thought of everything. A hospital is unique as a public space. There's more benefit of the doubt than at a library or a church, and I've seen church day-cares that don't let parents inside. It's a shame, and these days, necessary. You've found a way around that.

"Does Zola know about stranger danger?"

"Of course! We—"

"Has she asked about the security? Seemed nervous at all?" Carolyn neatly interrupted Meredith's indignation. So many times they'd gotten looks, sometimes questions, whenever Zola melted down in public. She sensed it wasn't as bad it would be if their skin tones were reversed, but it happened.

"Not that I can think of."

"Then, she has no notion that she'd be anything other thansafe here. Have they tried to make a run for it?"

"No," she admitted. "Not unless they've heard our voices."

"I'm sure they miss you while you're working, every child does, but I doubt they worry that you've forgotten them.

"I've done my time with other people's children. Once I had six grandchildren under five, it made more sense to volunteer with a childcare provider than to volunteer to provide childcare. Neglect has an aura. It's difficult to see when you're close, but what's evident with your two…BeeZ, is it?"

Meredith laughed. "Yeah. Well, my friend Alex calls them BoZo, sometimes, because it infuriates Zola."

"Not a clown fan?"

"I don't think she gets the reference. She hates ZoBo, too."

Carolyn's eyes lit up. "Because there's no O in Derek Bailey Shepherd?"

"That's it." If Zola didn't let it slip by the end of the visit she'd reveal that she hadn't stopped her from adding but there is a b-o in Uncle Bonehead!

"She's sharp. And very well loved. With Derek's work situation, I'm sure you're doing the heavy-lifting."

"He loves them!"

Carolyn knew that. Meredith looked down at the pastel rug covering industrial carpet.

"If only they was all it took, eh?"

"He's…doing his best."

"Mm." Carolyn squeezed her arm again. "He loves you, too." She smiled hearteningly, and headed on through the gym door. Meredith could hear little voices singing about snow. Rather than presenting a program at a set time, they'd taught them to gather for "carol breaks" so that parents who couldn't attend for two hours straight could catch a performance.

Meredith brushed her eyes with the back of her wrist, and then followed. Zola noticed her first from where she stood hand-in-hand with her brother and cousin. She held fast to Bailey when he started squirming, refusing to let him break ranks until the last note. Then, with the same gusto she'd been using to sing she shouted, "MOMMY!" and pushed him the slightest bit, not letting him stumble, but putting herself soundly ahead in the race to be caught up in Meredith's arms. That was a Shepherd collision she'd never avoid.

Please R&R, and remember, if your email isn't set to opt-in, you won't get notified! This fic is crossposted at AO3, same title, same author if you want more…reliable service.

welcome to the Mer/Der Christmas fic! This is set in canon, between 11x12 and 11x13, which is technically the same time as First, Do No Harm, but that starts a few weeks after (a very different) Christmas. I don't usually post long author notes, partially because it's a pain to do while crossposting to FFN, but I have a lot to say about this, so if you're interested, please find my Tumblr (chicleeblair) or follow the tag "DRG" or "Dawn of Redeeming Grace"

Updates will start M/W until FDNH is complete. This is fully written, and I plan to go M/W/F from there, but it'll depend on how that goes, and how close I am to finishing my WIP at that point.