Who I Am Without You, Part 18

All right, I'm not sure how many people are even still with this story, but I promised to finish it, and finish it I shall. We're wrapping things up here, but an epilogue to finally put a bow on all this will be forthcoming, and thankfully it's already started, so hopefully forthcoming means weeks instead of months. Thanks to all who are still reading and who have let me know they enjoy the story.

"SHEPHERD, Charlotte Abigail Montgomery."

Derek read the card again, the pink "I'm a Girl!" barely registering as he just took in her name over and over.

He loved it--the way it sounded, the fact that he and Addie had agreed that no one was allowed to call her anything but Charlotte, even the weight of it. It sounded dignified and pretty all at the same time, grown-up but still girlie. But more than anything, he loved that his daughter--their daughter--bore his family name.

The reality of how close he'd come to a life where Charlotte was a Montgomery or maybe even a Sloan or some other surname was something he couldn't ignore even if it pained him to consider it. But he had given up on his marriage and on Addison and hadn't even been sure in those first days of knowing about the pregnancy that he could be a father to this child. He hoped he never stopped being grateful that life and Addison had both given him time to come to his senses.

"You can go in, you know? I hear you have an in with the head of the department."

Derek glanced to his right and saw Richard coming to his side. His mentor placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a proud, fatherly pat on the back.

"She's beautiful, Derek."

His smile was so big, he knew he probably looked ridiculous, but he didn't care. Derek could never remember feeling like this in his life.

"She's amazing. I mean, seriously, Richard, I think she might be the most amazing baby ever born."

"You don't say?"

"Mm-hmm. She already knows her name. I said, 'Charlotte,' and she looked right at me."

Richard couldn't stifle a laugh.

"At least you didn't think gas was a smile."

That made Derek chuckle at himself, and then he focused his gaze back on the small bundle on the other side of the glass.

"I was on my way in to get her to take her back to Addie's room, but... I just always had this--I don't know--vision... you know, me standing outside the nursery, looking in the window and seeing my baby laying there, showing up the other babies."

"Well, let's hope she got Addison's humility," Richard teased. Then his face sobered a little. "Speaking of, how is Addie doing?"

"She's great. Tired, but great. Her labor was really fast, so she didn't have time to get an epidural. There was a lot of name calling directed toward me, so I decided I shouldn't point out that we'd have been at the hospital in time for the drugs if someone hadn't kept insisting it was just a backache and not labor."

"Sounds like a wise decision. Well, you give her my love and tell her Adele and I will be by later to officially meet the newest member of the family."

Derek nodded as Richard started off down the hallway, then finally the new father moved toward the door of the nursery marked "staff only." A nurse he didn't know was standing near Charlotte, and he appreciatively noted her checking for his I.D. to make sure he belonged here. When she recognized his name, she smiled.

"So you're the proud dad, huh?"

"I am," he replied, certain his dopey grin had returned. "My daughter and I have a date with her mother."

"Well, that's one mother I don't want to keep waiting," the young woman teased. "I was just about to get her stats, and then she's all yours."

"Okay, well, I'll give you a few minutes and come right back."

The nurse gave him a smile and Derek leaned down and dropped a kiss against his daughter's left cheek before he walked out of the nursery. It occurred to him that Addison would probably be hungry, and he knew how much she loathed hospital food. So given a few extra minutes of free time, he made his way to the coffee cart, which also made fresh fruit smoothies and sold croissants from one of the best bakeries in town.

With one strawberry-banana-blueberry smoothie and a butter croissant in hand, Derek was back outside the nursery five minutes later. But he stopped short of the door when he caught sight of a tall figure standing beside his daughter's bassinette, the large man's fingers touching gently against the small face as the little girl's feet wiggled around.

In another lifetime, Mark Sloan would have been Charlotte Montgomery-Shepherd's godfather. He'd have stood at Derek and Addison's side at their daughter's baptism and promised to be the person who would look after her if her parents were ever unable to.

Here in their life in Seattle, in the aftermath of three people loving each other and losing their way and rebuilding, Derek knew he didn't have it in him to let Mark occupy that official place in Charlotte's life. Not that Derek doubted for a moment that Mark would be there anytime, anyplace if the little girl needed him. And he was fine with the concept of "Uncle Mark" being a part of their world now that they'd all somehow made peace with their volatile past. But as he and Addison had delicately waded into the discussion of who their baby's godparents would be, Derek had realized that his reclaiming of Addison and the baby as "his" family was something that required boundaries, not just to keep others out but to keep them on the path they had somehow wandered off back in New York.

Yes, Mark and Addison were friends; yes, he and Mark were something more akin to friends than he'd ever imagined them being again; yes, Mark was someone they trusted to support their daughter as she went through life. But Derek knew from personal experience that loving Addison wasn't something that stopped because you wanted it to. Mark still loved her, and Derek wanted--needed--it to be clear that he was no longer absent from his post at Addison's side. He was her partner and he was Charlotte's father. Mark was their friend. The lines between those roles could never become murky again.

That need for clarity, though, didn't make Derek forget that when he hadn't been there, Mark had. He'd held Addison's hand through the first weeks of her pregnancy, and he'd worried over Charlotte when she was still a small, grainy image on an ultrasound. And so Derek understood the mixture of sadness and joy he saw on his friend's face as he smiled down at the baby girl he'd been waiting to meet for months.

"Just promise me you're not giving her advice on men."

Derek offered the line as a gentle, ice-breaking jest once he finally stepped into the nursery. Mark flashed him a small smile.

"Only telling her to avoid guys like us."

"Oh, well, in that case, I concur with whatever you said." Derek sat Addison's breakfast down a nearby chair and then leaned over and kissed his daughter's head. "You should take that advice, Charlotte. This is one time I wholeheartedly approve of you listening to your crazy old uncle."

Mark rubbed his hand over the baby's belly and made a silly face at her. "Oh, your daddy is so very lucky I promised your mommy we wouldn't fight anymore. Otherwise, I'd totally have to punch him right now."

"Then Uncle Richard would ban us both from the nursery," Derek added, "so that would be bad."

Even though he'd made the joke, the mental imagery of Richard glaring at them, hands on his hips, head shaking in disappointment was a reminder of the childish though probably inevitable fight they'd gotten into months earlier. The chief hadn't been the only one furious with them. Addison had been livid. And yet as much as he regretted the hurt they'd caused her that day, Derek couldn't help but think that finally feeling that instinct to fight Mark because of her had been key in helping him start to get his act together. Even if it had been born out of immaturity and jealousy, it had been the first time in a long time he'd realized just how powerful his feelings about his wife still were.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Shepherd?"

Derek looked up at the sound of his name and found the nurse he'd spoken with earlier standing beside them. He eyed her name-tag and finally determined her name was Lisa.

"We're all set if you'd like to head over now."

"Sounds like your cue," Mark said before he claimed Charlotte's small hand and placed a kiss against her soft skin. "You have a nice day with your girls."

A reflex that was decades old nearly made Derek insist Mark come along with them. After all, in that "other" life, it would've been expected, natural. But before the words could take shape, Derek thought about those boundaries he felt they all needed in order to move on. He had no need or desire to exclude the other man from the specialness of the day, but these first few hours of their family life, they belonged to him and to Addison and Charlotte alone. So Derek nodded and told Mark to make sure he came by later because Addison would be expecting to see him.

"I'll stop by before I head home," he promised. "Congratulations, Derek. Really. She's beautiful."

The words were warm and genuine, and Derek reached out and accepted the handshake that accompanied them. And then Mark turned and left the nursery.

Much like the testy wheelchair policy that he knew Addison would gripe over when she was discharged, the hospital dictated that Charlotte had to be transported through the halls in her standard-issue bassinet. So Derek walked alongside the rig, Addison's breakfast in hand, as Nurse Lisa steered them carefully through the hallways. Staff members wished him congratulations and cooed over the baby as they passed by, and the surge of pride he felt was undeniable even if he'd be the first to admit that her mother had done all the hard work.

Addison was still sleeping when they arrived, and so Derek asked Lisa to pop the smoothie into the nurses' fridge before he scooped up his daughter and settled down in the chair on the far side of the room near the window.

"You probably have blanket permission to wake mama up anytime you like, but I get the look when I do it," he whispered. "So we'll just hang out here and let her wake up on her own, okay?"

Charlotte squeezed her little mouth tight for a moment before relaxing and letting her lips fall open as she let out a deep sigh. Derek decided to take that as a yes. He wiggled around, getting more comfortable in the chair before he let himself indulge in a chance to rest his own eyes for a moment.

It had been a long night and even though he knew his body was exhausted, Derek's mind filled with images of the house, of the list of small fixes and finishes that needed to be done so that the final inspection could take place. And once that was done, then he would get to the business of turning it into a home for his family.

Some of his ideas were starting to take shape, at least in terms of making plans. He had seen a luxurious chaise lounge on a furniture expedition that he knew had to be in their bedroom. Piece ordered, Derek knew it was going to set the tone for the décor of the whole room, so he was currently deciding on paint that would set off the brick colored fabric that covered the soft cushions. And he knew what bed he was going to buy already. He had won that battle back in the brownstone, even though Addison had always hated the sleigh bed that ended up in their room. This time, he was eyeing the furniture style she preferred, a platform, but he'd found one he thought would make them both happy, dark wood to fit his preference with really clean lines and a rich looking finish that Addison would like.

The element of the house that was proving to be the most fun to design--and he knew no one would ever believe him if he admitted it--was the huge walk-in closet. Years of studying the very systematic way in which Addison housed her shoe collection and categorized her wardrobe into seasonally appropriate groupings had helped him choose a built-in that, while tons of work to actually construct, was damn near a work of art. He couldn't wait to see her reaction to it, especially to the thickly padded window seat he'd added so she always had a convenient place to sit when she was in one of her "which pair of heels am I going to wear today" moods. Burke, who had come to help build some of the shelving, had repeatedly broken into hysterics over the idea that any one woman could really own enough shoes to fill the closet. He'd nearly laughed himself into a coma when Derek said he was actually worried they might not all fit.

As he scanned magazines for ideas about living room furniture and how to outfit their balcony, Derek was starting to see them there--his family in their home, Addison sitting in the chaise holding Charlotte while the sun rose, him in the kitchen warming a bottle, all of them snuggled up in front of the fireplace listening to the rain. And he had absolute faith now that all those things would come to pass. Addison had given him that when she'd told him the night of their baby shower that she finally believed they would make it. He'd been hopeful, of course, determined and he'd tried hard not to let himself dwell on the little doubtful voice that sometimes whispered in his head. But after spending a day surrounded by their family and friends, feeling how right that was, it had been an incredible gift to hear her voice that same hope and determination. He had his family back. He still wasn't sure he deserved them, but he was damn sure that he'd never be foolish enough to let them go.

One thing that had truly surprised him, though, was how much it meant to see the pride on his mother's face as he'd given her a tour of the house during his family's visit. His sisters had all peppered their seals of approval with snarky commentary designed to remind him what an idiot he'd been in the past. He had found a momentary respite from their teasing out on the balcony with Patricia.

[i]"Pretty far cry from our Manhattan brownstone, huh?"

His mother laughed and leaned into his shoulder as he let his arm wrap around her.

"This suits you better. I mean, the New York house was lovely, but it always felt a little like you and Addie made yourselves fit the brownstone more than it fit you."

Derek nodded, understanding. There had been a host of reasons for buying that particular home--the proximity to the hospital, the closeness of their best friends. But looking at the house Addison had bought for herself in Queen Anne Hill and at the structure he'd built here on his property... well, there was a chasm of difference between those two places and their Manhattan home. And maybe that said a lot about how caught up they had gotten in the picture of what their life together was supposed to be like. Sure, they had bought a beautiful, stylish place to live, and they'd been happy there for a while, but in the end, going home to it, to each other, had felt like the hardest thing in the world because the picture didn't fit them and they didn't know how to fix it.

But with this new house, Derek had thought about them the whole time it was being built. There wouldn't be any arguments about where the Christmas tree went because he knew Addison loved for people to see it as soon as they walked in the door and he liked it to be visible from the window, and so he'd designed the living room so they could have both. He'd filled the kitchen with the organization he knew she craved but given it the arts-and-crafts look he loved. They were in every part of this house, and he hoped it would always make this a place they wanted to come to, even when things between them were hard, which was bound to happen eventually--they'd learned that lesson the hard way.

"Your father would be so proud of you."

The words caused a sting in Derek's eyes. He'd thought of his dad so often as he had put the plans for the house together, hearing the reminders about detail and making sure that every thing was triple-checked so that the family that lived in what you had built was safe and secure thanks to your work. And as he'd painstakingly checked and rechecked and checked again on each step of the build, whether it was his work or something done by the contractors he'd periodically had to hire, Derek had developed not only a newfound understanding of himself and his marriage, but a rekindled appreciation for just how hard-working and strong a man John Shepherd had been.

"I wish he was here, Mom," he whispered, and Patricia nodded and kissed his cheek.

"He's always here, Derek. He's such a part of you. Sometimes you just don't see him, that's all."[/i]

Glancing down at his daughter, Derek prayed his mother was right. And he hoped that, years from now, when Charlotte was grown, she would remember him as the man he wanted to be for her and for Addison.

Soft muttering from the bed brought Derek's eyes open wide, and when he saw that Addison was trying to wake up, he stood and crossed over to the bassinette and laid Charlotte down. Once he had his baby girl settled, he moved to her mother's side and took hold of her hand, leaning close so she could feel his presence.

"It's okay, Addie. I'm right here. Just open up your eyes."

The lack of an epidural had left Addison in serious pain once the delivery was over, and while he could see that she'd wanted to argue about taking anything, when Miranda and Izzie had tag-teamed her about the need for her to get some rest and start to heal for Charlotte's sake, Addison had given in and let them give her some Demerol. But she was clearly a little foggy, her utterances of his name and her inability to keep her eyes open for more than a few seconds giving him clear indicators.

"Deep breath in, and let it out," he said softly, letting his free hand move up to smooth back her hair and tough lightly against her face.

Addison did as he suggested, and finally after a few breaths, she was able to open her eyes and keep them open. She blinked and let herself focus on him, a smile spreading over her features.

"Hey."

"Hey, sleepy."

"You told me to take the drugs," she said, her expression morphing into a glare. Derek laughed in response.

"Yes, I did, because you needed to. And I'm glad you got some rest. But I'm also very glad to see you awake."

That made the glare disappear.

"How's our little beauty doing?"

"Well, she's got Mark wrapped around her finger already, half the hospital's in love with her, and I'm pretty sure we only have about ten minutes left at most before her tummy introduces us to how loud she can be."

Addison laughed and slowly eased herself up in bed a bit. Derek stood and moved to retrieve the topic of their conversation and passed Charlotte to her mother, who he watched carefully draw up her knees to provide a natural cradle for the baby. Once they were both comfortable, Derek climbed into bed with them.

"Look what we did." Addison spoke to him with her eyes firmly fixed on their baby girl, her fingers teasing lightly against Charlotte's cheeks.

"She's the most incredible thing I've ever seen," he said, snuggling closer to his family. Addison finally broke the powerful hold the infant held on her attention and looked over to him. She was crying, but also smiling, and so he simply reached out and brushed the tears off of her skin.

"I wasn't just talking about her. I meant... this."

This... it was such a tiny word to describe what they had accomplished. They had saved their family, faced their demons, learned to forgive... they had remade themselves, really. Addison had learned how to survive without him, he had figured out that he was a better man with her in his life. And they had both found the strength to trust each other again even when most people would have deemed them insane for trying.

Derek leaned forward and kissed her and when Addison let her forehead rest against his, he inhaled, breathing in her scent.

"Yeah, this is pretty outstanding, too."

*****

Mark plopped down on his couch and stretched out, his well-worn gray t-shirt and favorite pair of holey sweatpants providing some modicum of comfort after a ridiculously long day. An early morning surgery to remove a frontal sinus tumor had gone well, but then his afternoon patient had suffered a stroke during an eye lift. There was nothing in the history that would've alerted them to any health risk, but still, it ate at Mark to have lost a patient on such a routine procedure. And yet it was a reminder that when it came to surgery--to life--the most routine things could turn everything upside down with one little sideways step.

There was good news from the day though. Hank Vincent had been released, and a consult with his oral surgeon had given them a firm window for the teenager's first set of dental implants to be done. The delight on the kid's face had really gotten to Mark, mostly because after everything he'd been through, Hank rarely had a down day. He was grateful for the help he was getting, glad to be free of the bastard father who had nearly ruined him and hopeful. But there was a maturity to him that you never wanted to see on a young person who was really just getting started. Then today... today he had truly seemed like what he was--a teenage boy who was thinking about being able to hang out with his friends again, maybe go on a date, go back to school... just live his life.

Being a part of that made Mark feel like he had a real purpose at Seattle Grace that went above being Addison's best friend or trying to rebuild things with Derek. Which he knew most of the time, but there were days when he forgot about how much he loved being a surgeon, days when the folly of his personal life blocked out everything else.

It was also good news that Addison and Charlotte were home today, delivered there safely by Derek and Patricia. He'd had the chance to go by and spend some time with the Shepherd girls, though, the night before when Derek had gone to pick his mother up at the airport.

Seeing Charlotte in the nursery had been... well, he still wasn't sure what the right word was to describe it. But after waiting so long to meet her, all the while thinking about what she might look like, sound like, be like, he had felt completely overwhelmed. And still, that had left him unprepared for the powerful sensation of seeing Addison holding her baby girl in her arms. The sight of her giggling, of Charlotte nearly smiling as her mother's red hair tickled against her skin... just as he'd known when they were surrounded by the Shepherds again, welcomed into the family once more despite their mistakes, he knew sitting in that hospital room that everything had ended up the way it was meant to.

So Mark had kept his visits to a minimum, and he was determined to stay away from Addison's house today no matter how tempting it was to go over and be part of the homecoming celebration. Derek was taking care of his family, and it was time for Mark Sloan to figure out what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his life now that his original Seattle plan had fallen apart around him.

He groaned at the sound of a knock at his door. He knew it wasn't Karev because the intern was working the late shift, and besides, Alex usually called at least from the car before coming over to hang out. When the knocking began again and grew louder, Mark wondered if maybe one of the Shepherd sisters had made the trip as well and was coming to harass him.

"I swear, whatever it was, I didn't do it," he yelled as he stood and headed for the door.

"Oh, shut up," Izzie yelled back. "I have beer."

Mark clicked the locks and opened the door to find Stevens holding up a six pack, which she wiggled in front of his face.

"You can buy the pizza--mushrooms, pepperoni, sausage, and thin crust, please, not that thick crap."

She walked inside, deposited the beer on the coffee table, her purse and a tote bag on the floor and then she pulled off her jacket. Mark closed the door and walked over to grab his phone off the charger.

"Anything else, ma'am?"

Izzie headed toward the stairs, calling back to him over her shoulder.

"No, that'll do it for now."

He laughed, hit the speed-dial for his favorite pizza place and placed the order. When he saw that the blonde had yet to return to the living room, he headed up the stairs to investigate.

"Are you ransacking my stuff up here?"

She was standing in his spare room--his empty, completely unused spare room--and she rolled her eyes at him as he joined her.

"It's time for you to decorate this room."

"Excuse me?" He meant to sound incredulous, but to his own ear, it came out more amused. She shrugged and began scanning the walls.

"Look, I've been thinking about this for a while, and you told me you were gonna do the distance thing when Charlotte came, and Charlotte's here now, so I figured now is as good a time as any. You decorating this room, it's closure."

Mark crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb.

"And how do you figure that, Dr. Stevens?"

"You told me once that when you bought this place, you did it thinking this would be a room for the baby, right? Well, now it's not gonna be that, so what is it?"

He was tempted to tell her it was none of her business what he did with his apartment, but Mark had come to rely on Stevens as a good friend since they'd both started to adjust to the lives fate had delivered to them. He knew she was genuinely concerned about him and so he decided to try to indulge her.

The thing was, he didn't know what this room was now that it wasn't a place for the baby to sleep when Addison stayed over. That had always been the plan. He'd even taken the measurements of the walls and window so that when the time came, when Addison was finally ready for staying over, they'd be able to outfit the spare room as a sort of secondary nursery without much delay.

But it would never be that now, something he'd had time to cement in his head and his heart as fact. But still he hadn't done anything with the space.

"I don't know. I could put my workout stuff in here, I guess."

"No, no, no," Izzie said, walking over to stand by him. "This room needs a purpose or else you're just filling it with stuff."

"Well, when I have guests, they generally have a place to sleep already, so I don't really need it for that."

His comment earned him another roll of the intern's eyes.

"You know what this should be? An office."

Mark felt a crease settle into his brow.

"An office? What in the world would make you think I need an office in my house?"

Izzie didn't answer him, instead she started to see things that weren't there, her imagination already racing as she walked out the door.

"Yep, it's an office."

Mark peeled himself up off the door frame and followed her path to and down the stairs.

"I repeat, why an office? Do I seem like a home office kind of guy?"

He watched as she trotted over to where she had dropped her purse and the tote. She removed a stack of magazines from the second bag and then sat down on the couch.

"Let's see, we need a bottle opener, and can you put the rest of the beer in the fridge? And you're seriously gonna play dumb with me about the office thing?"

Mark shook his head and walked over to the table. After he pulled two beers free and set them on coasters, he moved to the kitchen, putting the rest away. He returned and took the seat next to her on the couch a moment later, bottle opener in hand.

"Yes, I'm playing dumb. Explain, please."

Izzie had one of the magazines open on her lap, and she flipped a few pages before looking up at him.

"Everyone else may fall for that 'I don't care, I get by on my looks' thing you like to do, but everyone else doesn't live at the hospital most of the time because they're too lonely and sad to go home, just me. And I'm on to you, Mark Sloan. You care, and you make it look so damn easy by spending hours reading journals and studying new techniques when you think no one's looking. Which you could get away with even better if you had an office here at home, where someone with freakish observation skills like me couldn't scope you out."

As Stevens' eyes returned to the magazine, Mark chuckled and then took a drink from his beer.

"Wow, you really think you've got me figured out, huh?"

She sighed and looked over at him again.

"You know, I don't get that, either. It's like you're fine with people thinking you're a slacker, but you're so not that guy. Why do you want people to think that? Are you trying to keep the expectations low or something?"

"Don't you have friends you should be hanging out with and trying to save?" he asked, trying to get out from under Stevens' microscope.

"Oh, please. Meredith is trying not to care that Addison and Derek had the cutest baby ever, Cristina is freaking out because Burke adores Charlotte, and she thinks that means he wants a baby tomorrow, George is... I'm not sure what George is doing, actually. He's been dating this chick from Ortho, so who knows. Oh, and Alex is at work. And you are my friend, so what's the deal?

Rather than answer, he took another, much deeper drink off his beer.

"That's it, right?" she went on. "If they think you're just all glitz and some surgical skill, they won't be surprised when you don't call or don't want to get close or whatever because you don't let them see what else is there. Which kind of makes no sense because, really, isn't that why you fell for Addison, because she totally saw through all that crap?"

It was, really, exactly why he'd fallen for Addison. She was the first woman who had ever looked past his façade to get a view of what lay underneath, and Mark had been amazed really to have someone who wasn't Derek or Derek's mom or one of Derek's sisters actually believe there was more to him than met the eye.

"Is that why you fell in love with Denny?" he asked, turning the tables to give himself a break from her all-too-accurate analysis. "Did he see you for who you really were?"

Izzie reached out and picked up the beer he'd set out for her. She started to take a drink, then stopped, her mind wandering as she held the bottle in her hand a moment before she let it rest against her lap.

"It's not like being thought of as pretty is awful or anything, it's just, hardly anyone wants to look past that, you know? Even now, even when I walk around in a lab coat and have a nametag that says 'doctor' on it, sometimes you can tell people think I must have somehow snuck in because I'm pretty. But Denny... even though I knew he thought I was beautiful, he always loved that I... loved medicine, and he used to ask me about things that had nothing to do with his heart condition because he liked to hear me talk about other cases and diagnoses. And I think, yeah, that's why I loved him. He saw me--the whole package. And it was really nice to be seen."

Mark certainly understood that. It was why he knew that even though he'd let go of his romantic hopes for Addison, she would always hold a special place with him because she'd made him believe someone could see all of him and think he was worth seeing.

"So... an office, huh?"

He returned to Stevens' previous topic because he felt a little guilty having used Denny to try to fend off any more commentary on his emotional baggage. It did the trick. She smiled brightly and pushed the magazine toward him.

"This type of thing seems like it would go with your stuff. Modern, but it's got some warmth to it, you know?"

Glancing at the picture, he conceded that yes, the style would suit him. And by the time the pizza arrived, they had a dozen pages in three different magazines dog-eared so they could compare and contrast them after they ate.

Two beers and three pieces of pizza later, Mark had been talked into a wooden x-base desk stained a dark chocolate brown, a wall-mounted shelving unit and an office chair from the Relax the Back store that looked good enough to sleep in. He decided for himself that he would add a brand-new MacBook to his snazzy new workspace.

After four hours of diligent decorating work... a welcome distraction from his aimlessness... Mark watched as Izzie stretched and tried to cover up a yawn.

"All right, so we'll go look at paint day after tomorrow when we get off shift." She made her declaration while leaning back even deeper against the throw pillows on the couch, her eyes obviously getting a little hard to keep open. "And then you can buy me dinner, to thank me for my help."

"Stevens, did anyone ever tell you that you're the bossiest damn woman they've ever met?"

Izzie nodded and stifled another yawn. "That is not true. You know Bailey."

He burst out laughing, unable to argue at all with her logic.

"True, but Bailey isn't remodeling part of my house, so right now, you win."

She laughed softly, but he could tell she was only a few minutes from falling asleep. Standing, Mark moved to the hall closet and pulled out a throw blanket he owned solely because Addison had given it to him in New York years earlier so she'd have one to use when the Shepherds visited his apartment. When he draped the soft fabric over the intern, her eyes shot open.

"I'm good, really. I just wanted to rest my eyes a minute before heading home."

He scoffed as he moved to pick her feet up off the ground and deposit them on his former seat on the sofa.

"You had three beers, you're exhausted, and Addison and Bailey will kill me if I let you get popped for DUI, so just go to sleep. I gotta get up at 5:00 for the gym, so I'll wake you up then."

She sighed, her eyes closing and settled down under the blanket without any further protest.

"Okay, just 'cause I don't have the energy to argue with you. You win."

By the time he finished clearing away the beer bottles and the pizza box, Stevens was fast asleep, her arm curled around the square Yankees pillow he had been moving from place to place since his first college dorm room. He stopped to make sure the blanket was covering her sufficiently, and then he padded up the stairs.

He was tired, but the day had ended up much better than it had started. Izzie was right, it was time to make a change that was about the next part of his life. And he did spend a ridiculous number of hours at the hospital doing work he could easily do at home if he just started thinking like a guy who had the space at home to do the work.

It was a little surprising to him to realize he'd spent so much time around the blonde, though, and been so unguarded that she was completely on to his games, to his "Mark Sloan, Plastics God" persona. Mostly he liked that she got it. But a part of him... well, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't sort of terrifying to feel exposed again with someone who wasn't named "Shepherd."

Uncharted territory, this letting in someone new. And yet he couldn't deny how good it felt to have someone just... like him, like being around him and talking to him and not because he was Derek's friend.

He chuckled as he settled into bed, mulling over the idea of writing his former overpriced Manhattan shrink to let him know that despite all the best intentions, Mark Sloan was actually starting to enjoy a life that included more than one-night stands and unrequited love.

*****

There was a list of things that she had allowed herself to daydream about over the months of her pregnancy--sitting with the baby in the green-hued nursery, rocking her little girl to sleep in the moonlit room, snuggling with her during the early mornings. One thing Addison was sure she had never pictured, though, was the sight that met her eyes as she emerged from the shower.

Derek was kneeling on the floor, his body pressing forward so that his face was just above Charlotte, who was laying on the bed, her hands held by her daddy, her feet going every which way, showing off the pink booties her grandmother had knitted for her. To the right of the bed sat Doc, his chin pressed against the bed, his eyes fixed on Derek and the baby.

"I know she seems all sweet and quiet now, Doc, but sometimes she's gonna cry, and that's okay, because that's how she tells us what she needs. So you shouldn't get upset when you hear her crying, okay?"

The dog stared at Derek as if he was listening most intently, and he kept his whole focus on the two people in front of him as Derek turned his attention to Charlotte.

"And, Charlotte, Doc is your doggie, and he's a very good boy when he's not eating furniture. But he barks sometimes, especially when he's trying to tell us he's hungry, which you should understand, so I don't want you to get scared when he does that, okay?"

Addison wished more than anything that she had a camera close by so she could someday have photographic evidence as backup when she teased Derek about his belief that their dog and their two-day-old infant could understand his lecture on behavioral science basics. Sadly, she was out of luck there, so she settled for walking over to them and easing herself down on the bed beside Doc, who eagerly pressed his head toward her in search of a bit of affection. She scratched the top of his head as she eased into a comfortable position.

"How was the shower?" Derek asked in between delivering kisses to Charlotte's hands.

"Heaven. How goes the introductions?"

"Doc totally seems to get she's not a chew toy, so I'm delighted."

Addison laughed, and Derek rose up and moved onto the bed, shifting Charlotte so she was laying equidistant from each of them.

"It's weird," he said, going on, "it's just like when you were pregnant. That way he knew he couldn't jump on you anymore and he was so careful. He didn't even try to jump on the bed when I told mom to let him in. He just walked in and came up to the bed and started checking her out."

"That's because he's a very good boy," Addison said, her voice taking on a singsong quality as she gave the dog a scratch under his chin. "And how is this one doing?" Her hand settled over Charlotte's cotton-covered belly, and the baby let out a few soft mewling sounds.

"Good, though the fist has been headed to the mouth a lot more the past few minutes."

Addison nodded and carefully pushed herself back up to a standing position.

"I better get my hair dealt with then. What time did Preston say he was coming by?"

"He said dinnertime. And he said if we need anything to page him, but the way mom's got the kitchen stocked..."

She chuckled and walked around the bed so she was standing behind Derek, her hand resting on his shoulder as she leaned over and nuzzled the top of his head.

"We have a daughter. Can you believe it?"

Derek leaned back slightly, his hand grasping hers as he craned his neck back so he was looking up at her.

"We have a daughter."

Addison gave him a quick kiss and then headed into the bathroom. She didn't want to have to feel wet hair snaking over her shoulders for the next two hours, and she didn't want to keep Charlotte waiting to nurse any longer than necessary, so she grabbed the dryer and decided dried wavy hair was just fine for a first day home with her new family.

As the warmed air began to dry the moisture a good shampoo had left behind, Addison let her mind return to the jumble of thoughts she'd been sorting through in the shower a few minutes earlier.

She had not expected to feel so overwhelmed by the reality of Charlotte. It was all good, but so much more powerful than she'd imagined it would be. The sensation of her daughter's weight in her arms, of hearing her breathe while she slept... so many small things that Addison couldn't help but catalog and note, and all of them left her wondering how she'd survived so long in the world without this little being. Already she felt the shift in herself... how everything now involved her daughter's needs and happiness and security. She'd known that would happen, of course, it was kind of a mandatory part of having a child, but she had never anticipated how quickly it would happen or how complete the change was. Thoughts of when to nap, to eat, to even hop into the shower were all dominated by Charlotte's schedule. And Addison didn't mind in the least.

It was the first thing Mark had noticed about her when he'd come by to visit last night. He'd arrived a little before Derek left go to get his mother at the airport, and God love him, he'd come armed with a chicken salad sandwich to save her from a hospital food dinner. He and Derek had traded lighthearted barbs, which Addison had watched in fascination. She was still stunned sometimes that things seemed to really be healed amongst the three of them, even if they all knew they'd never be the same. She was prouder than she knew how to say of both men, to see them showing genuine care and concern for one another again. It was more than she'd really hoped for, and the fact that she was going to emerge from the past few years with her husband and her best friend still in her life was a miracle in and of itself.

Derek had said his good-byes a short time later, and Addison had asked Mark to keep her company for a while. For a moment, she'd thought she'd seen hesitation in his eyes, but then he'd smiled and sat down on the end of the bed.

[i]"What?"

"Just... you and Charlotte, you two are something, that's all."

Addison smiled and peered down at her baby girl. She had quickly discovered that one of her daughter's favored positions was nestled in the crook she could make in her body by sitting up and bending her knees at an angle. She leaned forward now, the tips of her hair brushing over Charlotte's legs. The baby reacted with a rash of wiggling and squirming and a series of soft sounds that bore a faint if impossible resemblance to laughter.

"She is pretty fantastic, isn't she?"

"She is. And you, you're just how I knew you'd be."

Looking up, she'd nearly expected to see sadness on Mark's face, his tone had been so serious. But he was still smiling at them, beaming almost.

"And how am I?"

"You're just... I don't know, it's just so obvious that you're her mother, that she's already... everything."

She'd cocked an eyebrow at him and shook her head. "I'm pretty sure all new mothers look like that, Mark."

"You told me yourself that some moms need time to surrender to it all," he retorted. "And I'm just saying... you don't need to surrender. You're hers."[/i]

In the moment, she really hadn't understood exactly what he meant, but in the hours that followed, as Addison felt the way all her thoughts and actions suddenly revolved completely around Charlotte without the least bit of effort, she realized Mark was absolutely right. She was Charlotte's and Charlotte was hers...

And unbelievably if you'd known where they began, they were both Derek's, and he was theirs.

The man Addison had worried might not even want their daughter had actually cried when she was born, and sometimes while their friends and coworkers were visiting during their hospital stay, she'd had to insist he let someone else hold the baby. And just like her, his every move now seemed dictated by the tiny creature who had stolen their hearts with her first breath. When they had gotten home, even though she knew he had every intention of convincing her to move into the new house as soon as possible, Derek had insisted on taking the baby from room to room, narrating for her at every point about where they were and what the space was for and what was inside it.

"I want her to always feel safe and know where she belongs," he'd insisted when Addison pointed out that Charlotte was seeing nothing more than a lot of grainy black and white blobs in the rare moments her eyes were even open.

She laughed at the memory as she turned off the dryer, deemed her hair good enough for whatever the rest of the day would bring and headed out into the bedroom. She'd barely gone two steps before a small screech escaped from her baby girl's little body.

"And that would be my cue."

Derek nodded as he turned toward her and gently passed the now very fussy infant over.

"You want to sit on the bed?"

Addison shook her head and started toward the door.

"I want to spend some time in her room, let her start to get used to it, even though she's totally sleeping in the bassinette in here until I can sleep without her two feet away."

She loved that he tried not to laugh at her, even if he lost the battle.

The nursery door was open, and she toed it a little wider so she and Charlotte could pass through more comfortably. Before she could even sit down in the rocking chair, Doc curled up beside it, his sentry post clearly established. Addison chuckled and settled down into her seat as she gently bounced her increasingly irate daughter up and down.

"Okay, Miss Charlotte. It's lunchtime, I promise. Let's just get comfy."

A few minutes later, the hungry baby happily filling her belly, Addison let her eyes roam over the nursery that had come to life thanks to the work of her friends. She was overwhelmed by the warmth of the different greens they'd used to complement the handmade quilt Charlotte had inherited from her father, and the way the sunlight filtered into the room was perfect. If a room could feel like a cuddly blanket, then this place felt like one.

More than once, she'd thought about how hard it was going to be to leave this room. Not the house really. As much as she loved her home, and as secure an anchor as it had been in those first weeks after she and Derek had separated, Addison knew that part of her comfort here came from sharing the space with Izzie and now, most often, with Derek. And certainly having her family in one place that was theirs, not hers or his would be a good thing. But the nursery was harder to think about leaving behind. So much love had gone into it and there were so many people who were a part of it--Richard had hung the wallpaper, Mark and Derek had finally deciphered the code of the crib, and the little knick in the paint beside the changing table, that had come when Izzie had jabbed Karev in the shoulder as he painted the bottom half of the wall and he'd gone tumbling against the plaster.

She had finally braved mentioning it to Derek, reassuring him that she wasn't second guessing the idea of moving, just realizing how much this one room meant to her. He'd promised that he understood, and told her that he'd do all he could to make sure the nursery in the new house was special, and Addison didn't doubt for a moment that he would. Still, she was glad she had pictures from the decorating party so that Charlotte would know how lucky they were to be so loved.

Shifting Charlotte up on her shoulder, Addison patted lightly against the baby's back as she wandered out into the living room, Doc at her heels. She couldn't help but laugh as she spied Derek sound asleep on the couch, the past few days finally catching up with him. Moving as quietly as she could, she went on to the kitchen where Patricia's soft singing accompanied her lunch preparations.

"Whatever that is, it smells like heaven."

Derek's mother laughed and turned when Addison stopped near her so Patricia could take a quick peek at her granddaughter.

"Oh, that belly's all filled up now, isn't it, little girl?"

Charlotte answered her grandmother by letting go of a small burp then snuggling deeper into her mother's shoulder. Both women laughed and Doc, spying the cracked patio door, decided it was time to go play outside.

"A healthy appetite will not be a problem with this one," Addison said, "which is good because we'll have a great knowledge of how to eat right and none of this ridiculousness about thinking she needs to diet at nine. And she's not hanging out with any girls who think like that either."

That made Patricia chuckle, then she gave both girls a kiss before returning to her work at the counter. Addison moved to one of the nearby stools and sat down.

"Lunch is roasted chicken and garlic mashed potatoes. You need some good stick-to-your-ribs food during these first few days of being a mommy."

Addison might have refuted that diagnosis coming from anyone else given she still felt like she was carrying thirty extra pounds, but from Patricia Shepherd, she let it go.

"Dinner's going to be that pasta you love, with the mushrooms and asparagus."

"You realize I'll never be able to let you go back to New York, right? Between your cooking and Izzie's baking, I could never leave this house and be perfectly happy."

"Do you have an O.R. in the basement? Because without that, I think you're exaggerating just a bit."

Nailed dead to rights, the redhead laughed and shifted the baby so she was cradled in her arms once again. Charlotte was sound asleep, her right fist tucked under her chin.

"If anyone had told me eight months ago that you'd be here in my kitchen... that he'd be out there messing up my couch... I'm not sure I could've even imagined it."

Patricia nodded as she put the finishing touches on her dish and popped it into the oven, then she came over and leaned against the countertop.

"I won't pretend you two didn't have me scared to death there for a while. I'll warn you now, the worst part of being this little girl's mother will be watching her make a terrible mistake someday and having to wait for her to ask you how to undo it."

Addison sighed, mentally willing that day off for as long as possible.

"I bet you wanted to shake us both on more than one occasion."

"Yes, I probably did," Patricia replied with a nod of her head. "But really, my heart just hurt for you both so much. But the only two people who could make this right were you and Derek, and so all I could do was wait for you two to ask me what I thought... so that then I could tell you what to do."

The laughter set off by the older woman's teasing was interrupted by an unexpected and powerful yawn. Addison drew in a deep breath as she realized how quickly the energy she'd had before her shower had evaporated.

"All right, let me spend some quality snuggle time with my grandbaby here. You go get a quick nap while you can, and I'll come and get you and Derek when lunch is ready."

Without argument, Addison released Charlotte into her grandmother's hold, and then she headed out to the living room. Derek was still curled up on his side on the couch, and so Addison walked over and eased herself beside him. A moment after she settled into a comfortable position, Derek's arm wrapped around her waist.

"Did we know having a baby would make us this tired?"

"We did," she answered, laughing softly. "We had her anyway."

"Well, that's because she's beautiful and brilliant. We couldn't deprive the world of that."

Addison laid her hand against his cheek, her fingers running over the stubble.

"Shut up and go back to sleep."

Derek nodded once, his eyes still shut.

"I was having a dream about us. We were snuggled up under a big blanket on our balcony at the new house, watching the stars with Charlotte... she was like two, I think, and she kept pointing up and saying, 'twinkle,' like she was calling the stars to come down to her."

The sleepy tone of Derek's voice coupled with the romantic imagery set the whole picture off in Addison's mind. Even though he'd only let her see the house that one time and so she had no clue what it would look like finished, she could visualize them there, the sky filled with the beautiful white dots of the stars, and their little girl fascinated by the magic that, from her point of view, seemed like it must be right at the end of her fingertips.

"When do you think it'll be done?" she asked. Derek had started to drift off again, but now his eyes opened and he looked at her.

"The house?"

Addison nodded, and he drew in a deep breath as he thought about it a moment.

"It's all really decorating now, some finishing touches. Some of the pieces I picked will take a little while to get here. So let's say with time for disasters and returns and a few last tantrums from me... three months?"

Three months, she mused. Twelve weeks to settle into motherhood, prepare herself to get back to work after her maternity leave, to get used to what it felt like to now be Derek and Addison and Charlotte.

"As soon as you're done, I think we should spend the weekend there. See how easily Charlotte can make the transition."

He looked at her expectantly, happily, and she saw their daughter in his smile and Addison felt her throat tighten at the feeling of love that overwhelmed her. She knew that she would never forget the heartache that had led her to leave Derek's home all those months ago, but all Addison could feel now was grateful... to Derek, to herself, to Mark, to the friends who had held their hands and to the family who hadn't given up on them.

"So then as soon as it's done, you'll come home?"

She brought her face even with his and kissed him before snuggling into his shoulder.

"As soon as the house is done, we're coming home."