Star Bright -- Addison/Sam/Pete/Montgomerys

If there was one thing Addison had never imagined when she'd bought her little piece of heaven on the California coast, it was spending Christmas here with her parents.  But that was exactly what was happening as Christmas Eve ticked off its final hours, the sun long set, the Captain and Bizzy making conversation with Sam and Pete, who had agreed to come and bring Lucas because, well, Addison was hoping the cute would ward off the awkward.

It had helped a little.  Lucas was working at pulling himself up on anything he could grab... the coffee table, the couch, even the Captain's leg.  And whenever she needed to get some air, she would scoop up the little boy and take him to get a teething biscuit or to look for his favorite toy.  The baby was a welcome distraction in an otherwise tense day for her, and she was not only grateful to Pete for his ability to share his son and to let bygones be bygones where her father and Violet were concerned, but infinitely glad that Bizzy's questions about her friend's Doctors Without Borders' years were keeping the conversation flowing.

Addison didn't know what to make of the glances Bizzy was throwing her way, but she chose to ignore them rather than engage and potentially add to the knot that was trying to form between her shoulder blades.  Sam was doing his best to help, keeping her smiling with whispered commentary like "what is 'morning dew' code for in WASP?"  But all the things that were missing kept her from really feeling the holiday spirit even if her parents were actually trying. 

She and Archer were still on the outs, and so her brother had declined the invitation to Christmas, traveling to Europe instead to "see friends."  Naomi had taken Maya back east to see her family, and while Addison understood... her goddaughter's behavior had been seriously out of control the past several months... their absence had definitely taken some of the joy away from the festivities for her and for Sam.  And then there was the person who was missing on her behalf... Addison knew it even if no one said it out loud.

Susan.

Susan was back in Connecticut because when the Captain had phoned... actually picked up the phone and called... and asked if perhaps she'd consider coming home for Christmas, Addison had flatly refused.  She didn't need to be trapped in the middle of their drama again, she'd said, especially not back in her childhood home without her friends around to provide her some kind of outlet.  But then she'd felt guilty... horribly guilty because as much as she didn't think they had any right to ask her to come back there and face their dysfunction, she couldn't remember the last time her mother and father had made an effort to actually spend the holiday with her.  So Addison had added a "but" to the conversation.

"But you could come here.  If you'd be willing to do that, just the family, I could... I could do that."

And so here they were... Christmas Eve Montgomery style, with drinks flowing, meaningful glances flying and a sense of fragility in the air.  So she wrapped a warm blanket around Lucas and danced the baby out onto the patio, hoping that somehow they'd all get through the holiday without any new wounds being inflicted.

*****

Pete watched as Bizzy Montgomery's eyes flitted across the room toward her daughter and Lucas and then back again.  He had no trouble seeing the physical link between the two women... Addison had inherited her mother's grace, her smile, her killer legs.  But the redhead he adored so much was a very different woman from the one who had raised her.  There was a warmth to Addison that, even at her most charming and gracious, was lacking in the elder Montgomery lady.

"It's nice to have a baby in the house."

The phrase caught him off-guard, his attention having wandered, and Pete quickly returned his eyes to his conversation partner.

"Lucas is a pretty good baby if I do say so myself.  Plus, he adores your daughter."

Bizzy nodded.  "So it seems.  You know, I always thought Addison would have children by now.  Though I guess divorce doesn't lend itself to that."

He hadn't meant to react, but he knew he must have when Mrs. Montgomery's eyes widened.

"What?"

Pete shook his head, trying to cover as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

"Peter, you obviously have something to say about my commentary on my daughter's maternal status.  So please... say it."

Pete took a deep breath, unsure this was his place, but he always felt defensive on Addison's behalf when this topic came up, maybe because during those first few days he'd known her, he'd seen just how brokenhearted she was over a fate she was struggling to accept.

"She may not be able to... have children."

The words settled onto Bizzy's shoulders and he saw her amusement at his discomfort evaporate.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know all the specifics.  I only know that she... it's something she's not sure she can have anymore."

And though he'd never be able to prove it, for a moment when she was too distracted by thoughts of her daughter to hold her carefully crafted mask in place, he saw a hint of Addison in her mother, a softening in her features that told him it mattered to her that something so important might have been lost to her child.  He only wondered if the older woman would ever let her guard down with the person it really mattered to most.

*****

"You need to speak with Addison."

The words came out as a command, which wasn't unusual when Bizzy spoke, but this time, the edges were dulled and the Captain registered immediately that something had happened earlier, he just wasn't sure what "something" was.  He stared, waiting, and his wife approached the bed in Addison's guest room and sat down on the edge.

"Apparently there are... some issues... with her having children.  And I don't know exactly what it is, but you need to encourage her to see... someone, to figure it out."

"She is your daughter, too, Bizzy.  You could speak with her yourself."

A sigh and a roll of his wife's eyes was the response to his statement.

"What makes you think she'll listen to anything I have to say about her life?  She hates us both equally, remember?"

Her hand eased across the fabric of the comforter, touching his fingers where they rested on the bed.

"We have to do something.  We have to."

And he nodded, because they did.  She was their girl.  He just wasn't sure anything they had to say would matter, not when they'd waited so long to try and learn how to be her parents.

*****

Christmas morning came with a high of sixty nine degrees and a bright, sunny sky.  Addison bundled up in her Yale hoodie and a pair of sweat pants, grabbed a cup of coffee and headed out for a few moments of peace and quiet on the beach before "family" time and a holiday brunch at the Four Seasons.

So far, it hadn't been that bad.  Despite her never-ending tension and the guilt over making her mother exclude Susan... guilt seemed to be a new theme in her life post-40... Addison couldn't say their visit had been bad, especially when compared with the last one.  No earth-shattering secrets were being revealed, no life-long myths blown all to hell leaving her with nothing to hold on to.

She hoped that trend would continue as she heard the French doors open and glanced back to see her father walking out to join her.

"You don't miss the snow... just a little?"

"If you promise not to tell Bizzy... I do, just a little."

The Captain smiled at her, and Addison chuckled and she had a flash of memory at being a little girl, before she'd realized what Daddy did when he "worked late," when that smile had made her happier than almost anything on Earth.

The slight rustling of the paper in his hand caught Addison's attention, and she looked down just as her father extended the note to her.  Curious, she took it and unfolded the slip she knew came from his leather-bound journal.

"Ben Resnick, Yale Medical Group?"

"He's been doing some amazing work with infertility studies, focusing on antral follicle stimulation."

Addison's eyes widened as she looked down at the note again and then back at her father.

"Why would... how did you know about... that?"

The Captain shrugged.

"If you don't want to go that route, you know your Uncle Bigsby can handle an adoption for you no matter how you might want to approach that."

Her mouth fell open as she sat her coffee cup down in the sand for fear she might spill the liquid on herself due to shock.

"Where is this coming from?  What, you and Bizzy see me with Lucas for a few hours, and now you have grandparent fever?"

"It... may have come up.  I'm not sure how, but just... just take the number.  Give him a call."

"Daddy, if I wanted to talk to someone about fertility, Naomi is one floor down."

"Naomi is wonderful," he said, his body turning so he was facing her position now.  "I'm just saying that if you wanted to be... aggressive... you should give Ben a call."

"What is this?  What is going on?"

Her question was met with silence, and Addison felt her frustration starting to get the best of her.  She had no idea where this sudden interest in her status as a mother was coming from, but the tender territory upon which her father was treading was not a place she let herself dwell in.

"Daddy, why are you... can you please just tell me why this conversation is even happening?"

When he fixed his eyes on hers, she felt herself shiver not from any note of anger or upset but from the look of concern she saw there.

"I know that I missed your life.  I know that I let a wall build between us by letting you believe the problems in my marriage to your mother were my fault.  And I know that for the better part of your life, Addison, that you've hated me."

She opened her mouth to protest because it was a knee-jerk reaction, but her father's hand on her arm silenced her.

"But for your entire life, Addie... every single moment of it... I have loved you.  Even when I didn't know how to do it right, I loved you.  And you don't want to miss that with a child of your own.  Not you."

Tears stung at her eyes as she looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Not everyone gets a choice.  Not everyone is meant to have children."

"Not everyone gets to have their own child," he said in rebuttal.  "And maybe you don't get that choice.  But no one will ever convince me that my beautiful, brilliant, independent, amazingly loving daughter is not meant to be a parent.  And don't be flippant and say Bizzy would disagree, because your mother is the one who asked me to speak with you."

Addison swiped at the droplets that had seeped down her cheeks and sniffled.

"I... I don't know that I'm ready to deal with this."

"It's just a phone number, Addie, just a reminder that you have options."

She nodded, grateful but too disconcerted by her father's show of support to know how to tell him what she was feeling.  And all that did was reinforce her fears about bringing another living being into the circle of crazy that was her family.

"You aren't us, Addison.  You... you're you.  And it will all be all right."

She wanted so much to believe that.  Just the brief exchange with her father had pried open the carefully sealed well in which she kept her baby desires firmly locked away.  And despite all the worries she carried over whether or not she really could do better than her own parents, Addison couldn't deny that the idea of spending a Christmas morning in the not so distant future with a little boy or girl racing in to tell her it was time for presents was perhaps the most lovingly kept dream she held in her heart.

*****

"I think they're right.  You should look into it."

Addison sighed and rolled over onto her right side so she was facing Sam, who mirrored her on the other side of his bed.  Her parents were long since gone to sleep back at her house, and though the day had been nicer than she'd ever have expected, her mind had been preoccupied by the images of babies her father had let loose with his advice that morning.

"Sam, I just... I mean, really?  You think now is the right time..."

"You waited for the right time with Derek and it didn't come.  Screw the right time.  If you want to be a mother, Addison, then you should be one.  And the day you decide that, that becomes the right time."

She sighed and sat up, the tangle of sheets stopping her from moving any further.

"There's no daddy in this picture.  There's no guy.  I haven't found the guy.  Or if I have..."

Her eyes moved back to his and she turned her body slightly so she could really see him and try to read his expression as she went on.

"We don't even know what we are, Sam.  We... keep having these moments," she said, her hand gesturing over the bed, "but we haven't put any kind of name to it.  And, I mean, what if this is... something?  What if we're not just friends getting each other through until we're ready to move on?  You and Nai only had one child for a reason, right?  So would you even... I mean..."

Nerves choked off the rest of her ramble, and Addison turned back, shoulders slumping as she became obsessed with staring at her hands.  Then she felt Sam's comforting touch against her back as he sat up and moved closer.

"You and I will figure out what we are when we need to.  And no matter what we are, I will always be your friend, and I will be here to teach your kid the kinds of things daddies teach kids.  And if it's something I don't know, you have Pete, and you have Cooper and Dell."

He reached over and took hold of her hand, and Addison willed her eyes to rise up and meet his gaze.

"It may not be the picture you expected.  But your child will have a family, Addison.  So if you want one, you should decide how and go for it.  You owe that to yourself... and to that baby, whoever he or she is."

*****

"You're on your way, right?  Because you should know that the second you agreed to come to Connecticut, Bizzy called Martha Stewart and borrowed one of her editors to decorate the house for Christmas."

Addison would think her brother was kidding except it would be so Bizzy to do just that.

"I'm on the way.  We head to the airport in half an hour.  I'm just trying to make sure I have everything."

"Stop worrying.  We'll buy whatever you forget.  Just get here."

She was going home for Christmas.  And though a year ago, Addison had refused to do so, now she felt ready to see the house of her childhood and play out whatever family dramas sparked in the confines of the Montgomery estate.

"Uncle Archer says I should stop worrying.  What do you think?"

Her voice elicited a gurgle and that soft baby laugh sound from her son, who was lying on his back on his play mat safe from the whirlwind of packing that had been ongoing for the past few hours.

"Oh, fine.  Gang up on me.  I see how you Montgomery men are."

Asher Samuel Forbes Montgomery had come into her life four months earlier, and though Addison had never been so tired or felt stretched so thin in her life, she couldn't remember a happier group of months from any point in her past.

After talking to Naomi and to her father's colleague, Addison had decided that what she wanted was a child.  Though pregnancy was something she'd still love to experience, it wasn't mandatory, and when she thought of the babies she'd seen through her work with the safe harbor program for women who couldn't or didn't want to keep their newborns, she knew giving birth wasn't something she had to do.  Those babies needed people to love them, and she could do that, she knew, with her whole heart.  So she'd phoned her Uncle Bigsby and asked him if he could recommend an adoption service, and he had happily put her in touch with the two he worked with most often.

Filling out the paperwork and profiles had been easy enough, and between Bailey and Callie and Richard and Adele, her friends in Los Angeles and her parents, she'd had a bursting application packet ready to send off to the agency when one more letter was delivered to the practice by messenger.

"If you choose my sister to be your baby's mother, you'll be giving your child the best gift you ever could.  She is the best person I know, and even when I don't deserve it, she loves me beyond reason.  She'll do the same for her son or daughter, and she will give them more chances to smile than you could ever imagine."

The letter from Archer had been the end of their fight, and her brother had been there in phone call after phone call to calm her nerves as Addison waited to see if she would be a match with any of the young women who would read through her profile and decide if she was who they wanted to raise their child.

It was Sam, though, who was with her in the office as they pored over the practice budget to how much of a bonus they could pay each partner when the phone rang and changed her life forever.

"Dr. Montgomery, this is David Simon.  We have a match for you."

Jennifer Wimbley was a 20-year-old premed student at NYU who had already gained early acceptance at Columbia.  She wanted to be a cardiothoracic surgeon.  She was bright and funny and when Addison sat down with her on a bench in Central Park, she did so full of hope, pushing her fears and worries to the back of her mind.

"My parents wanted me to be a doctor.  So I guess it's just luck that I really want to be one.  But, you know, they worked so hard to get me here.  I just... I can't do anything that's going to stop me from finishing school."

Addison nodded.

"Do your parents know about the baby?"

"They do," Jennifer confirmed.  "They were upset, but when I told them I was going to go with adoption, they calmed down a lot.  I told them I knew I couldn't be as good to this baby as they had been to me.  Not now.  And someday when I can be, then... then it'll be my turn.  And they've been really great about making sure I'm taking care of myself and everything.  They, um, they would like to just know that the baby's okay.  So that's why I wanted to do an open adoption, just so we'll be able to check in every so often."

"I understand," Addison replied.  "And I'd be happy to do that.  I can send pictures or letters.  I really want you and your family to be completely comfortable with everything."

Jennifer smiled slightly and nodded.  And when she spoke again, Addison could hear the deep emotion in her voice.

"When I was reading your packet, I kept thinking, she'll understand.  She'll know why I have to do this.  Because it isn't like I don't want it.  I just... I'm not ready.  I have too much stuff to do before I can be anybody's mom.  And I just thought you'd understand that because you're you and you have this amazing career and now... now you can be somebody's mom, because you did all the other stuff first.  Right?"

Addison reached over instinctively and took Jennifer's hand.

"I do understand.  And I promise you that this baby will know how much you loved it.  He or she will know that you doing this was the most amazing thing that ever happened to me."

Jennifer smiled and swiped away at errant tears.

"Do you want to know?  The agency said that sometimes people don't want to, but I know the sex if you want to know."

She hadn't considered that, but now faced with the question, Addison nodded.

"You're having a boy," Jennifer said, her smile widening.  "You're having a baby boy."

"You guys ready?"

Addison scooped Ash up off his mat and turned toward Sam, who immediately reached for the baby.  Ash responded by letting loose with his little baby laugh, and though she'd just gotten him into her arms, she surrendered the infant to his godfather.

"We are.  I just need to zip up the last suitcase and change him."

"I'll change little man.  You can deal with zipping that suitcase... and the shoes trying to explode out of it."

She gave him a mock glare and they both laughed as he headed to the nursery.  Sam and she were still... undefined, but it was working as what it was for now, and she'd chosen him as godfather because no matter what happened later, she knew Sam Bennett was someone she wanted her son to know forever.

The fact that he had Maya this Christmas meant she was traveling East without him, but after a year of periodic phone calls and letters from both Bizzy and the Captain, she felt okay about going alone.  She had even asked her father if he would be comfortable if Bizzy asked Susan to Christmas dinner.  Because as confused as she still was about her childhood and the relationship between her parents and their respective lovers, Addison was ready to stop hiding from the hard stuff.  Asher needed a family that worked, that tried to get past the problems and not stay trapped in them for forty years.  And to give her son that, she had to take the next step and try to move on.

The Captain had sent the jet to pick them up because he didn't want Asher on a commercial flight full of germy travelers.  So their trip was easy and uneventful, and by early evening, they were in the limousine headed for the house.  Finally awake after napping the last half of the flight, Asher happily sucked down a bottle in his car seat as they took the winding drive through the private roads that led to the Montgomery estate.  And when Addison saw that in fact her childhood home did look like the cover of a "Martha Stewart Living" holiday issue, she gasped and felt her mouth pull into a wide smile.

"Oh, Ash, your grandmother has clearly been overtaken by baby love.  Wait till you see all this."

The Captain met them at the door, and Addison was surprised at how good it felt to see him.  For the first time in forever, coming home was a happy thing, and she was ready to embrace it and enjoy it.

"The house looks beautiful," she offered as he ushered them inside while the driver and butler pulled their suitcases from the car.

"Your mother is quite pleased with it.  It's been a long time since I saw her really enjoy getting the house ready for a holiday."

Addison nodded and then wandered toward the Christmas tree in the parlor.  Asher immediately went wide-eyed at the sight of it.

"Where's the star?" she asked, and the Captain walked up beside her.

"Your mother wanted to wait until you were all here for that.  Now why don't you go upstairs and get settled and maybe put my grandson in the snow suit waiting on your bed?  He and his grandfather need to take a walk to go see the horses and talk about manly things."

Hearing him call himself Ash's grandfather brought an unexpected rush of emotion, and Addison cleared her throat, hoping to keep it at bay.  Some small part of her had been worried that a child without true Forbes Montgomery genes might not be good enough for parents, and even though they had repeatedly referred to their "grandson" in notes and in phone calls, to hear it come from his lips as he looked on at the baby with such pride made Addison's heart swell.

She excused herself to head upstairs to change her son into the aforementioned snow suit and found her bags in her room waiting to be unpacked.  On the bed lay the little blue and white outfit and, on the pillows, rested a gift wrapped gold box tied up with white organza ribbon.

"What do we think this is, Asher?  Should we open it and find out?"

The baby gurgled his agreement, and Addison moved over to the box, her fingers tugging carefully at the bow.  When she pulled off the top of the box, her fingers brushed against black velvet, and when she saw what lay nestled in the center, she felt moisture sting at her eyes.

The crystal star from the top of the tree... She had forgotten, but the sight of the treasured family heirloom spurred her memory.  It was Montgomery family tradition that the Christmas star was gifted to the firstborn grandchild, then replaced with a new piece of Swarovski beauty that would await the next son or daughter's child.  Addison fingered the delicate glass and then planted a kiss on her son's head.

"This is your Christmas star, Asher.  And you'll have it for years and years until you give it to your son or daughter's firstborn."

"Do you think he likes it?"

Bizzy's voice drew Addison's eyes away from the beautiful gift and over to the doorway. Her mother stood elegant as ever, dressed in a lovely navy blue Chanel suit, a slight smile on her face.

"I think he loves it.  Thank you, Bizzy."

Her mother nodded and walked over, her hand touching down on Addison's shoulder as she let her other set of fingers be wrapped up tightly in Asher's firm grasp.

"Merry Christmas, Addison."

It was still no Norman Rockwell painting, but it was more than she'd ever let herself hope a moment like this with Bizzy would ever be.  They were moving forward, and it was all Addison could ever want for them all.

"Merry Christmas, Mother."