Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A million and a half babies are born each year, each one a miracle in their own right. Over 20 years, I've guided thousands of those miracles into the world, breathing life into the most fragile of them. I've sat with anxious parents, reviewed their prenatal scans, and explained the intricacies of neonatal surgery. I've watched as their faces flicker with hope and fear. Each delicate procedure, every tiny heart mended, every life held in my hands, is a testament to the blend of skill and grace that defines this work.

When the surgeries are done, and the beeping machines confirm stability, I look into the parents' eyes and see the weight of their love and worry. They clasp my hand, sometimes with tears streaming down their faces, and ask the question I've heard for 20 years:

"Is my baby going to be okay?"

"I've done everything I can," I tell them. "The rest is up to them, and to you.”

Chapter Text

Addison drove her car out of the hospital parking lot and into the bustling streets of Seattle, her mind a blank slate, operating on autopilot as she had done for years. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the blur of city life passed by unnoticed. In the back of her mind, she knew what awaited her at home. Henry and Aden, her twin sons, would be eagerly preparing a birthday surprise, complete with her favorite meal and a decadent chocolate cake. Derek, her husband, would arrive late as usual, offering an apology and a light kiss on her forehead. She would catch a whiff of another woman's perfume on his shirt, a bitter scent mingling with his own, but she would say nothing, much like her mother had done with her father.

She told herself she was happy. She had a successful career, a beautiful family, a life many would envy. Yet, a gnawing emptiness persisted, a void she lacked the courage to fill, even when the solution lay right in front of her.

Lost in these disheartening thoughts, Addison's attention was drawn to her surroundings as she was forced to stop at a red light. She looked up at the towering buildings and her gaze caught on a woman in one of the windows. The woman gazed out with an expression of deep nostalgia and sadness. She was stunning, with a slender face, clear eyes, plump lips, and blonde hair that fluttered gently in the breeze.

Addison was completely captivated by this mysterious beauty. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, mesmerized by the woman's melancholy allure. It wasn’t until the car behind her honked, jolting her back to reality, that she realized the light had turned green. She quickly drove away, but the image of the blonde woman lingered in her mind. Throughout the drive home, and even later that evening when she was supposed to be celebrating her 45th birthday with her family, the woman's face remained with her, haunting her thoughts.

As Addison pulled into her driveway and walked up to the front door, she heard the unmistakable sounds of her sons bustling about inside. She barely had time to set her keys down when the door flew open.

"Happy birthday, Mommy!" Aden sang out, his voice full of excitement. The redhead smiled tenderly, though tiredly, as her younger twin, with his light red hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose, came into the foyer holding a cake adorned with a single "45" candle.

"Happy birthday, Mommy!" Henry followed, a grin lighting up his face as he carried a bottle of Addison’s favorite wine along with plates and wine glasses. His dark hair fell over his eyes in a tousled way that made him look strikingly like Derek when he was younger.

Addison let her gym bag fall to the floor as Henry joined Aden, standing side by side. Both boys leaned in to press light kisses on her cheeks, and Addison beamed brightly, feeling a warmth spread through her despite her earlier thoughts.

"Thank you, my little demons," Addison cooed, the nickname stemming from a long-ago fight with Derek when the twins were little, and he had called her Satan. In response, she had playfully started calling them demons.

"Dad's late as usual," Aden grumbled, a note of anger in his voice. The boys had always been close to Addison, favoring her over Derek since they were small. In recent years, they had grown colder towards their father, understanding more about the cracks in their parents' marriage despite Addison's tireless efforts to present a happy facade.

"Oh, who cares?" Addison huffed out a laugh. "I have everything I need with my babies." Her smile seemed to cheer them up, and they sprang into action, making her blow out the candles before ushering her up the stairs to change into something comfortable while they prepared everything in the dining room.

As Addison changed, she couldn't shake the image of the woman from the window. Even surrounded by her loving sons, that moment of unexpected connection lingered, a reminder of the unspoken desires and unfulfilled dreams that haunted her.

Returning downstairs in comfortable clothes, Addison found the dining room beautifully set up. Her favorite dishes were laid out, the cake prominently displayed in the center.

"You boys did an amazing job," Addison praised as she took her seat. "I’m so proud of you both."

"Anything for you, Mom," Henry said, pouring her a glass of wine.

"Yeah, we just want you to be happy," Aden added, his eyes searching hers for reassurance.

Addison smiled, trying to mask the ache in her heart. "I am happy, sweetheart. You two are my greatest joy."

As they settled into the meal, Addison felt the familiar tug of unfulfillment. Despite the laughter and the warmth of her sons' company, a part of her remained distant, longing for something more. Derek's absence was a shadow over the evening, a silent reminder of the fractures in their life together.

Later, as Addison lay in bed, the house quiet around her, she couldn't help but replay the day's events in her mind. The blonde woman’s face floated back to her, a symbol of the unacknowledged parts of herself that yearned for attention. She knew she needed to find the courage to confront these feelings, but tonight, as always, she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the love she had and the life she maintained, even if it wasn’t quite the one she had dreamed of.

Derek arrived home late, unusually late, moving through the house with the silence of a thief. He knew he had messed up royally. Forgetting his wife’s 45th birthday was a mistake that even Addison Montgomery, in her calm and generous self, wouldn’t forgive.

When Aden called him earlier to deliver a blistering reprimand, he had left the intern he had been with just minutes before and fled the scene. Desperation led him to roam around the city, searching for an open flower shop and jewelry store. He managed to find a bouquet of red roses and a Tiffany bracelet—thank God for late-night openings in New York.

He grabbed a taxi and headed home. The house was silent and dark when he stepped through the door. He turned on the living room lights and saw the decorations his twins had put up for Addison. It was all beautiful and thoughtful, a stark contrast to the lack of effort they showed for his birthdays lately. The thought tugged painfully at his heart.

Moving past the living room, he left his bag on the table and went to the fridge, where he found a single slice of chocolate cake with a note. Recognizing Aden’s spidery handwriting, he opened it.

Dad, 

Here’s a piece of cake for a piece of shit, that means you. 

Hate, 

Aden.

Derek frowned. His youngest son truly hated him, and it was understandable. Aden had caught him cheating on Addison and, while he promised not to say anything, Derek knew it wasn’t for his sake but for his mother’s. Henry probably knew, or at least suspected, because he had grown cold towards him too.

“Oh, hey!” Addison exclaimed as she entered the kitchen wearing silky rose pajamas. “I thought I heard you,” she smiled. She was still as beautiful as the day he married her, her body slender and statuesque, a dream walking on earth, but he didn’t love her anymore.

“Sorry, I am late, awfully late,” Derek said, hiding the note from Aden in his pocket. He grabbed the bouquet of roses and offered them to her. “Happy birthday, Addie,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead, then handed her the box from Tiffany. She took the bouquet with a soft, albeit fake, smile—she disliked roses but appreciated the gesture. She opened the box and had to school her face into one of surprise and gratitude. The bracelet inside was identical to the one Derek had given her two years ago, but of course, he would forget.

“Thank you, dear,” she said.

“If you don’t like it, the receipt is inside,” he sighed in defeat. “I’m sorry, it’s just sometimes difficult to buy things for you,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“How so?” Addison inquired, tilting her head to the side.

“You have everything and you don’t want anything,” Derek said with some exasperation.

Addison considered his words but didn’t know how to reply. “Thank you for the bracelet, and... the roses,” she smiled sadly. “Can you put them in a vase? I have an early surgery tomorrow,” she said, needing to get back to bed as she felt tears pricking her eyes. She quickly retreated to their bedroom and hid under the covers. Sometime later, she heard Derek come to bed. She felt the dip on his side of the bed and held her breath until his breathing evened out, signaling he was asleep.

Carefully, she slipped out of bed and went down the hallway to Henry’s room. She knew he was awake; he preferred working on his thesis at night and sleeping during the day, unlike Aden. She knocked softly on his door, and not a second later, Henry opened it. He knew she would eventually come and opened his arms, enveloping her tightly as she cried softly against his shoulder.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” Henry asked, rubbing his mother’s back as she began to calm down. Addison nodded against his shoulder and let him guide her to the bed. He drew back the covers and fluffed the pillows for her. She kissed his cheek before getting into bed, and he tucked her in. “I’ll be right here if you need me,” Henry murmured, gesturing to the desk across the room.

“Thank you, baby,” Addison whispered, falling asleep to the sound of Henry preparing his thesis. Despite the comfort of her son’s presence, the ache of unfulfillment gnawed at her heart, a silent reminder of the dreams and desires she kept buried deep inside.

Chapter Text

It had been a full week since Addison saw the mysterious woman looking out of the window with nostalgia etched on her face. Every day since, Addison had driven down that same street on her way home, stopping at the red light, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. But every time, she was disappointed. The woman was never there.

Addison’s thoughts were consumed by her. She lay in bed each night, staring at the ceiling, imagining what the woman’s voice might sound like. Was it soft and melodic, or did it carry a hint of an accent? Was she from around here, or had she come from some distant place, bringing with her stories of far-off lands? Addison wondered how the woman would be in different moods. How would she look when she was happy, her face lighting up with joy? How did she handle anger or disappointment? Addison pictured her laughing, smiling, crying, every emotion playing out vividly in her mind.

The more Addison thought about her, the guiltier she felt. Derek lay beside her, his presence a constant reminder of her marriage. Though their relationship had its flaws, and Derek was far from the perfect husband, they had built a life together. Yet here she was, fixated on another person, a woman at that. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t had girlfriends in the past; her sexuality had always been fluid. But in the end, she married Derek because she loved him and believed it was the right thing to do. But was it? Was it really what she wanted, or had she settled for what felt safe and expected?

Addison was about to give up on ever seeing the woman again. The obsession was beginning to feel futile, a fantasy she would have to let go of. But then, the next Wednesday arrived, bringing with it a downpour of rain. The heavy rain made it difficult to see the road ahead, and Addison decided to stop for coffee at a shop right across the street from the building where she had first seen the woman.

She settled by the window, her eyes drawn to the building across the street. As she sipped her coffee, she glanced up, and there she was—the woman, this time not just looking out but dancing. Addison's breath caught in her throat. The woman was dancing with a man, but Addison's eyes were fixed on her movements—the delicacy, the fluidity, the restrained passion. She was a dream come to life, her body moving gracefully, almost as if she was floating.

Addison's imagination ran wild as she watched, envisioning herself in the man’s place, dancing with her instead. The connection she felt, even from a distance, was undeniable. She longed to be part of that dance, to feel the woman’s touch and move in harmony with her.

Then Addison noticed a large sign on the top floor of the building: "Mrs. Bailey's Dance Academy." Right below it, another sign read: "Beginners classes on Wednesdays. Feel free to come and watch."

Addison's heart raced. She took another sip of her coffee, her mind swirling with possibilities. She could attend one of those classes, maybe even join. It was a chance to see the woman up close, to possibly interact with her. The thought both thrilled and terrified her. She knew she had to take that step, to satisfy the longing that had been consuming her.

Chapter Text

Without knowing how or when, Addison found herself under the rain, crossing the street and climbing the stairs of the building. It wasn't until she was halfway up that she realized what she was doing. She stopped abruptly, and as she turned to leave, she bumped into an Asian woman carrying a multitude of bags, which tumbled to the floor.

"I'm so sorry," Addison scrambled to apologize and help her pick up her things.

"Watch where you're going!" the woman spat angrily.

"I'm really sorry," Addison said sincerely, bending to gather the scattered items. The woman eyed her critically before handing her a bag.

"Help me get them upstairs," she demanded, starting to ascend the stairs again. "Come on, don’t stay there looking dumb; it’s unbecoming for someone your age," she grumbled and continued up the steps. "And stop looking at my ass," she called out.

"I'll try," Addison whispered with amusement as she followed the woman to the dance academy. Panic and thrill ran through every fiber of Addison’s body. What was she doing here? She should be home with her sons, not here, seeking out a mysterious stranger. She should be home, she decided, handing the woman her bag and trying to turn to leave.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" a sweet—like honey over fluffy pancakes—voice asked behind her, and Addison knew, deep in her insides, that that voice belonged to the woman she had been fixated on. It was even more enchanting than she had imagined. Addison turned around slowly until she was face to face with her. Blue eyes shone with warmth, almost sending Addison to the floor in a fainting spell.

"The... the sign said... feel free to watch," Addison stammered, immediately closing her mouth. Since when did Addison Adrianne Forbes Montgomery-Shepherd stammer like a schoolgirl?

"Are you here for the beginners class?" the woman asked, approaching the counter and opening a book. "Are you registering as single or as couple?" she asked, grabbing a pen.

"Single... I mean I'm not single, but it's just me," Addison stuttered.

The blonde woman smiled in amusement. "You can come practice for free every day without disturbing other classes, but the class is on Wednesday. Single privates are $45 an hour. If you buy six at a time, the price per class drops $5. Have you ever danced before?" Addison shook her head shyly.

"No. No. But I'm a fast learner," she was quick to say.

"We're starting a new intro ballroom series for singles. I recommend that beginners start with that. There's still room in the class," the blonde said with a kind smile.

"Okay," Addison nodded, taking out her credit card and giving it to her.

"Oh, we just take cash, Ms. Montgomery," the blonde explained, reading the name on the card before pushing it back.

"Oh," Addison blushed. Hearing her last name on this woman's lips made her head spin. She fished in her purse for two $20 bills and a $5 bill, handing them to her.

"The class meets every Wednesday at 7:30, for eight weeks. And can I see your ID?" she asked, taking the money. Addison nodded and passed her driver’s license to her. "Addison Adrianne Forbes Montgomery-Shepherd," the woman said slowly as she jotted down the name, and Addison was ready to pass out. "That's a hell of a name, very strong," the blonde smiled as she returned the ID.

"I'll come back then. Thank you," Addison squeaked. She turned to leave, unable to stay in her presence any longer, but the sweet voice stopped her again.

"Ms. Montgomery?"

"Yes?" Addison turned around, feeling her face heat up.

"Today is Wednesday, the class is about to begin," the blonde smiled, and Addison felt her face heat up even more.

"Right," she chuckled nervously.

"I'm Meredith Grey." Meredith Grey, Addison repeated in her mind. "I usually teach the advanced class. Miranda Bailey is the one teaching the beginners. She's running a little late, but you can wait here," Meredith motioned to a seat near the entrance, where a scruffy but good-looking guy was already sitting. Soon after, another man sat next to her on the other side, smiling and bouncing a bit. Addison was reminded of a golden retriever.

Addison’s eyes soon went back to Meredith, whose face was of pure concentration as she instructed her partner on the next dance moves. She watched as Meredith demonstrated a simple waltz, her body moving with an effortless grace, guiding her partner with smooth, fluid motions. Meredith’s hands and arms flowed elegantly, her feet gliding across the floor in perfect rhythm.

"Hey, I'm Coop, Cooper Freedman," the golden retriever man said, offering his hand to Addison and the other guy.

"Alex Karev," the scruffy-looking man grunted but offered his hand to both of them.

"Addison Montgomery," she introduced herself, shaking both of their hands, her eyes never leaving Meredith.

"So, you dance much?" Cooper asked.

"High-school prom. 'Stairway to Heaven,'" Addison remembered with a weird smile. It had been an awkward experience for her.

"You?" Cooper asked Alex.

"Not even a prom. I didn't go. Anybody see any girls? I mean, I'm here for the babes, right? I mean, it can't be just us, can it? Guys dancing with guys ain't my kinda thing, you know? No offense, dude," Alex asked earnestly, looking at Cooper.

"None taken," Cooper chuckled.

A group of young women entered the room, and Alex's eyes lit up like Christmas trees. "See the slinky one with the eyebrows? That's me—if you don't mind," he said, talking to both of them.

"Be my guest," Addison said.

"Go ahead," Cooper agreed.

But then, the girls left with a shared giggle.

"Memories of high school, huh, boys?" the Asian woman, who was already warming up, mocked them.

At that moment, a middle-aged woman approached them. She was of medium height, with a stocky build, her dark hair pulled back into a no-nonsense bun. Her eyes were sharp and intelligent, her demeanor exuding authority and kindness—a balance that only a few could master. She wore a simple, yet elegant outfit, practical for teaching dance, but still professional.

"Good evening, gentlemen, and welcome to the beginner's ballroom class. My name is Miranda Bailey. I am the owner of this dance academy, and I am going to be your teacher. Disappointed that I'm older? I know you won't mind," she said with a smirk, noticing Alex's face of disappointment.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean...Hey, you look... experienced," Alex stammered, but Miranda was already ushering them onto the dance floor.

"Forward, side, close...Back, side, close," she instructed. Addison, ever the most driven, tried to do her best, but she felt awkward and distracted. Alex stepped on Miranda's feet repeatedly, while Cooper barely moved, paralyzed by the fear of making things worse.

Throughout the class, Addison's eyes kept drifting back to Meredith, who was now dancing gracefully with another instructor. Meredith’s movements were captivating, her body swaying gently with each step, her feet barely touching the floor as she executed a perfect twirl. Even the simplest movements seemed to be an expression of joy and passion.

Miranda concluded the session, and the participants dispersed. "See you next week," she called out, hoping to encourage their return.

Addison felt exhausted but thrilled as she left. For the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of ease. When she arrived home, the usual chaos—her boys not doing their chores, Derek’s absence—didn’t bother her. She had hauntingly blue eyes on her mind, and for once, she slept peacefully, the dance academy and Meredith Grey's face filling her dreams.

Chapter Text

Addison didn't think she would come back to the dance academy, yet here she was, climbing the stairs of the old but modern industrial building on a Friday after her shift at the hospital. She wasn't expecting to see Meredith there, but at the same time, she hoped the blonde goddess might be present. The main reason she came was because she wanted to dance. It had been so long since something ignited this desire within her. Medicine was her passion, but years of practice had dulled that fervor. She never understood why, but tonight she was here to dance, not because of Meredith—sort of.

The academy was hosting an advanced class, but Miranda allowed her to practice in the back, where Meredith, who was absent, usually practiced. Addison watched herself in the mirror, deeply focused, as she started stretching. Miranda reminded her to stretch before she continued with her class. Addison stole a glance at the mirror again and admired her figure, something she rarely did. In her eyes, she was old. Her body was never the same after having twins—her breasts sagged, she had rolls over her stomach, and cellulite on her legs and ass. But seeing herself in her biker shorts and tight tank top, she saw herself in a different light. The words Derek and society hurled at her about her appearance began to dissipate. For the first time in a long while, she saw herself as beautiful.

She played a slow waltz and raised her arms as if holding someone. She began moving her feet to the steps she remembered Miranda teaching during the first class. Her posture wasn't right, and her steps were hesitant. Frustrated, she growled and started again.

"You're not feeling the music," a voice behind her startled her just as she was about to take a step. She lost her balance and was about to crash to the floor when a pair of firm yet soft hands steadied her, sending tingles through her body. "And those are not the right shoes for dancing—slippery floors," Meredith said as she let go. Addison whimpered softly at the loss of contact. "Are you hurt?" Meredith asked with concern at the sound.

"No, no, just... you scared me," Addison replied softly.

"Take off your shoes," Meredith instructed. "I'll show you where you're going wrong." She removed her pink trench coat and left it on a bench nearby. Addison admired her in her leggings and loose shirt, blushing furiously and turning away, not wanting to be caught staring. She turned around and took off her sneakers, the ones she usually wore for surgery. "Now," Meredith walked towards her barefoot, her small feet looking kind of cute, Addison thought. "Ballroom dancing is supposed to be done with high heels for us women, but not tall ones. Ballroom heels are typically between 2.5-3 inches, while Latin heels can be up to 5 inches. The reason is balance. When starting your dance journey, you don't want to struggle with balance but focus on getting the basics right," Meredith explained softly. Addison forced herself to pay attention, which was difficult with the blonde so close and smelling like lavender and eucalyptus. "Heel protectors help prevent damage to your heel tips. You can get those at any dancewear store. They add support, stability, and friction to the heel of your dance shoes. Also, dance shoes make an interesting swishing sound when slid against the floor. Heel protectors significantly reduce noise, which can be very annoying!" Meredith giggled, and Addison felt like fainting at the beautiful sound.

"Great, I may have to do some shopping then. That's my favorite hobby," Addison laughed nervously.

"Alright, make sure to research before buying because sales clerks will try to sell you the most expensive ones, which may not be right for you," Meredith cautioned her. "As we don't have the proper shoes right now, we'll do it barefoot. The trick is to balance yourself on the balls of your feet instead of your heels," she said, demonstrating. Addison mimicked her perfectly, used to wearing high heels. "Perfect, now let's start the song from the beginning," Meredith moved away to play the song. "Straighten your posture," she called as she walked back. "I'm going to lead you. Usually, the male partner leads, but when two women dance, the more experienced, which is me, or taller one leads, which is you, but we'll make do," she rambled softly. Addison realized Meredith was nervous around her.

"Okay," Addison nodded.

"Place your left hand in my right one and the right one over my shoulder," Meredith instructed, smiling proudly when Addison did as she was told. "Dancing is like making love to your lover—words aren't needed, but you still communicate with your body. You learn to read subtle cues in your partner. For instance, if I lean into your space a little, you step back," Meredith said, demonstrating. Addison instinctively stepped back as Meredith leaned in. "If I release pressure on your left hand, it means your partner is about to release you to spin," Meredith continued, spinning Addison. "That's it, you're doing amazingly!" she praised, causing Addison to blush furiously. "Now, glide back to me," Meredith instructed in a sultry voice. Addison gracefully returned to Meredith's embrace. They moved around the dance floor in sync, as if they had danced together their whole lives. Addison was hesitant about some movements but allowed Meredith to lead, feeling a fullness in her heart she had never experienced before.

The song ended, and another began. They continued dancing, unaware of the audience—Miranda and her class—watching them with rapt attention. Near the end of the song, Meredith did something unexpected. She brought Addison closer and dipped her slightly, their faces mere inches apart. Addison yelped softly, her breathing growing faster and labored as her heart raced. She could feel Meredith in the same state as they got lost in each other's eyes, blue mixing with green in an electric way. Their moment was broken by applause from Miranda's class. Meredith pulled Addison back up, and they separated, looking sheepish.

"And that's what passion and connection look like, which is what you're all lacking," Miranda said, ushering her class back to the dance floor.

"Thank you," Addison murmured.

"No problem. We can do this another time," Meredith replied softly.

"Yeah, yeah," Addison nodded eagerly as her pager buzzed in her purse. She checked it and knew she had to return to the hospital. "I have to run. It was nice of you to help me... practice," she said to Meredith, unable to meet her eyes again, feeling that if she looked at her, she would never leave.

"Anytime," Meredith murmured as Addison left the academy.

Addison's mind was drifting as she performed surgery on a pregnant woman who had been in a car accident. The procedure required intense concentration to save both mother and baby, yet her thoughts kept wandering back to the things Meredith had said about trusting your partner, about learning to see the subtle cues so you can function together, so you can dance.

She was a woman of habits and routines, finding comfort in the familiar. Here she was in the same OR, surgery after surgery, with her trusted team who knew her subtle cues and followed her lead. They were her partners in this intricate dance that she once loved so passionately when she decided to become a surgeon. But over time, the passion faded, and the dance lost its appeal.

Tonight, though, after dance practice with Meredith Grey, she rediscovered her passion for surgery. It felt like reuniting with a long-lost lover, a comforting and exhilarating return home.

At the end of the surgery, in the early hours of the morning, she had managed to save three lives: the mother, the baby, and, in a way, her own. Her team congratulated her on another amazing surgery, clapping her on the back as she scrubbed out. The mother and baby were taken to the recovery room. Addison grinned, feeling accomplished, and decided it was time to go home.

Addison drove slowly, passing by the academy on her way home. She looked up, but the lights were off. She wasn't too disappointed—it was the middle of the night, after all. Arriving home, she was as silent as possible, not wanting to wake anyone. She sighed softly as she passed her twins' rooms and opened the doors to check in on them.

Aden was snoring softly, sprawled on his back with a leg and an arm dangling off the edge of the bed. Addison smiled at the familiar sight. She pushed the door open and walked in, lifting his arm and leg back onto the bed. Aden inhaled deeply and shifted before settling back to sleep. Addison tucked him in and pressed a kiss to his red locks before leaving the messy room of her youngest and going into Henry's room.

The light on his desk was on, and his computer was still running, but Henry was deeply asleep on top of his arms. Addison smiled and shook her head, a common occurrence. She pushed the door open and walked inside to wake him gently.

"Henry, baby, wake up," she murmured softly, rubbing his back. Henry's breathing changed, signaling he was waking up. He grunted softly before opening his eyes and straightening up.

"Mom?" he grumbled, rubbing his eyes and peering at her through hooded lids. "Are you just coming from the hospital?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes, emergency C-section," she explained, helping him off his chair and guiding him to bed. His room was tidy and neat, a stark contrast to Aden's, and she loved it.

"Cool, tell me more tomorrow," Henry sighed as she pulled the blanket over him.

"Will do, baby," she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead and brushing back his brunet locks. "Sleep well," she whispered as he moved around and went back to sleep, snoring softly like Aden.

Addison closed his computer and turned off the light before leaving the room, stealing one last glance at him.

She continued her journey to her bedroom, their bedroom with Derek, whose snores echoed through the hallway. She had always hated it, but after 20 years together, she had grown used to it. She pushed the door open and found her husband sprawled all over the bed, his sleep messiness clearly inherited in Aden.

Addison undressed slowly and went through her nightly routine. She climbed into bed, moving Derek's limbs from her side, and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.

"It's not true that I have everything, it's not true that I don't want anything," she murmured into the dark room, to her sleeping husband, to herself. She didn't have everything she wanted. She wanted the kind of passion she felt today while dancing with Meredith, the passion she rediscovered in the OR. But she wanted it for her whole life.

Chapter Text

Addison Montgomery cherished routines and punctuality, values honed by her work in the OR, where every minute counted. Nothing irked her more than tardiness, especially her own. Today, she was late for her Wednesday dance class.

Her surgery had run longer than expected, a complex case of Twin-to-Twin Transfusion Syndrome (TTTS) that had absorbed her so completely she lost track of time. The satisfaction of rediscovering her passion for surgery made her lose herself in the moment, but she hadn’t intended to be late.

Addison rushed out of the hospital still in her navy blue scrubs, barely managing to throw a black trench coat over her body. She grabbed her things and headed to the academy, taking the stairs two at a time. She was panting as she stormed into the academy, the class already in full swing. The lively strains of a Tango filled the room as Alex and Cooper danced around.

"You're late," Miranda drawled, observing the class with a critical eye.

"I know, I'm sorry, I had surgery," Addison grumbled, quickly joining the group and mimicking their moves. But her sudden entrance caused a disruption, and Cooper and Alex stopped abruptly. Addison bumped into them. "What? I'm sorry, are you guys okay?" she asked, looking at them with concern.

They both stared at her, taking in her scrubs, eyes widening in realization. "You're a doctor?" they both asked in unison.

"Yes, OB/GYN, Perinatologist, Fetal and Neonatal Surgeon," Addison replied matter-of-factly, though their dance partners looked impressed.

"I'm a pediatrician," Cooper said, his eyes lighting up.

"I'm a resident in Pediatric surgery," Alex said with excitement, clearly thrilled to find fellow doctors in the class.

"That's amazing! Where do you work?" Addison's face lit up with matching enthusiasm.

"Private Practice," Cooper said proudly.

"New York Press," Alex said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Alright, now that everyone has tooted their own horn, can we get back to the dancing? That's what you're paying me for," Miranda snapped, her annoyance evident.

They all mumbled their apologies and quickly fell back in line, following her instructions. The room was filled with the rhythm of the tropical dance as they moved around, trying to match the intricate steps. Addison found herself relaxing, letting the music and the camaraderie ease the tension of her rushed arrival.

Miranda's voice cut through the music, correcting their posture and steps. "Forward, side, close...back, side, close...remember to feel the music, let it guide you," she instructed.

Addison focused on the rhythm, feeling the music in her bones, and allowed herself to be swept away by the dance. The lively Tango melded with the excitement of her earlier surgery, creating a heady mix of adrenaline and joy.

Alex and Cooper occasionally exchanged glances with Addison, a newfound camaraderie forming among the medical professionals. Despite their different specialties and workplaces, the shared experience of dancing together created a bond.

The class continued, with Miranda occasionally clapping her hands to get their attention or correct a mistake. Addison found herself laughing at Alex's occasional clumsy missteps and Cooper's overly enthusiastic movements. The atmosphere was light and fun, a stark contrast to the intense focus required in the OR.

By the end of the class, Addison felt invigorated. The combination of surgery and dancing had reignited a spark in her, a reminder of the passion and joy that life could hold. As they wrapped up, she exchanged contact information with Alex and Cooper, promising to keep in touch and perhaps collaborate professionally in the future.

"See you next week," Addison said, waving as she left the studio.

"Don't be late!" Miranda called after her, though her tone was more teasing than scolding.

Addison laughed, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. The night air was cool as she walked to her car, her mind already drifting to the next dance class and the newfound friendships she was forming. 

"Hey, Montgomery!" Alex called before she could reach her car. She turned around to see him running towards her, with Cooper waiting behind. "Cooper and I were thinking about grabbing a bite at the café across the street. Want to join us?" He flashed a lopsided smile.

Addison's green eyes traveled to Cooper, who looked hopeful. She turned back to Alex, whose wide, encouraging smile made it impossible to say no.

"Sure, why not?" she replied with a grin.

The three doctors walked into the warm café Addison had visited last week when she decided to join the academy. They sat at the bar and ordered several plates of food. Addison opted for a plate of french fries and a huge glass of Coke, while the others indulged in hamburgers and other rich dishes.

As they settled into their meals, the Asian woman from last week walked in. They had seen her at the academy, practicing dance alone, but now she was sitting next to them at the bar.

"Why'd you guys decide to dance, anyway?" the Asian woman asked. "I'm Cristina Yang, by the way."

"I'm getting married in September. I'm Cooper Freedman," Coop said with a nervous smile.

"Nice," Cristina replied with a slight drawl.

"Yeah. My bride said she'd like to see me lose a few pounds," Cooper shrugged. He wasn't overweight, but he could stand to lose a few pounds. "She thinks dancing will help. I said it won't."

"I think you'll win that argument," Cristina laughed.

"Alex Karev," Alex introduced himself. "I'm taking classes to impress the ladies. You know what they say about guys who can dance, right?" He paused for suspense. "That they're great in bed."

"Yeah, baby," Cristina mocked him. "Where do you get that stupid crap?"

"Everywhere. What do you think? Everybody knows a guy who can move on the dance floor can move in the sack. Most guys can't dance at all. Guys who can, they get their pick of the litter. That's why, when I'm done with this class, babes will drop at my feet," Alex justified himself.

"They're gonna be dropping dead at your feet. When you took your shoes off in class today, I had to run to the window for air," Cristina snorted, rudely but truthfully.

"What kind of person says something like that to somebody they don't even know?" Alex asked, taken aback by her bluntness.

"Hey, man, I'm doing you a favor. I'm telling you something obnoxious about yourself that you might not be aware of. If there's something obnoxious about me that you don't think I'm aware of, y'all should feel free to say something about it to me," Cristina retorted.

The men and Addison remained rightfully quiet. "Where are all the ladies, anyway?" Alex asked after a moment.

"The ladies all go and take the classes down at Doctor Dance—that's, like, the hip place to go downtown. Itty bitty Bailey is only hanging on by a thread. The only reason I go there is she lets me rehearse whenever I want for free. I'm gonna compete in the New York Taittinger Trophy as soon as I find a partner...So...that leaves you," Cristina said, turning to Addison, who was sitting next to her.

"Leaves me? How? What?" Addison asked, confused.

"Leaves you as the only one here who hasn't said why she's dancing yet," Cristina said with a bored yet interested tone.

"Oh. Well, I'm dancing for exercise, like Coop," Addison lied, poorly.

"Bull," Cristina rolled her eyes.

"Because I'm lousy in bed, like Alex. There, I've said it," Addison lied again with a laugh.

"Hey! I didn't say that I was bad in bed, and that only applies to guys," Alex frowned, defending himself.

"You didn't have to," Cristina retorted. "Come on, why?" she prodded. When Addison remained silent, Cristina added, "That's what I thought. She was a Blackpool finalist, you know."

"Who?" the three of them asked, interested.

"The princess. The other teacher, Meredith," Cristina blurted.

"What's Blackpool?" Coop asked.

Cristina sighed. "Every year, all the best dancers from all over the world go to England to compete there. She was there last year with her partner—who they say was much more to her than just her partner. Anyway, dumped her. That's the only reason she came back here to teach—mad at the world, boo-hoo-hoo and all that."

"Why did he dump her?" Coop asked, confused. Who would be mad enough to dump such a beauty?

"I didn't say he, it was a woman. They let same-sex couples participate now," Cristina explained. "And how the hell should I know? God, they say women gossip! Golly!" Cristina huffed just as Addison's pager buzzed loudly. She checked it over with a frown—she was not on call, but she was being paged for a 911.

"Emergency?" Cooper asked knowingly.

"Yeah, I have to go," Addison said absent-mindedly, leaving a few bills on the counter to pay for her meal before bidding them goodbye and running towards her car.

.

Addison walked into the ER, prepared for anything as always. She was used to the chaos and urgency, but she was not prepared for the sight of Meredith Grey cradling a fussy three-year-old who was wailing loudly.

"Sorry for calling you back so late, Dr. Montgomery," a nurse approached her. "But our peds doctor is home sick with their kid."

"Doctor?" Meredith said over the noise of the crying child. "You're a doctor?" She asked with a hopeful look in her eyes.

"Yes, OB, but I know a lot about babies," Addison replied, approaching the station where Meredith was standing. "What seems to be the problem with this little prince?" She spoke to the child in a soothing voice.

"He's running a fever, 104°F," Meredith said, her voice tinged with desperation. "He has a history of epileptic attacks and I can't seem to make him calm down. He's extremely irritable and fussy, he's crying nonstop, and he's presenting sluggishness and trouble waking up," she listed the symptoms quickly, impressing Addison with her detailed observation.

"Alright, we'll run some tests. Blood tests and urine tests to look for infections or illnesses, an EEG to measure brain wave activity, a VEEG, or video electroencephalography (EEG with video recording), a CAT scan, MRI, or PET/MRI to get very detailed images of the brain," Addison explained methodically.

"Okay," Meredith nodded, her eyes growing glassy as she looked at Gabriel. "He's my son, Gabriel, Gabe," she added, caressing his blonde locks. "Nobody knows," she added quietly when Addison gave her a questioning look.

"Don't worry, Mer, Gabriel will be alright," Addison said, boldly reaching out to hold Meredith's hand reassuringly.

"Thank you, Addison," Meredith said with sincerity, squeezing Addison's hand.

Addison stayed with Meredith through the whole night, while they took Gabriel for the necessary tests. Meredith held Addison's hand tightly, and the redhead returned the squeeze. Addison was good at comforting worried mothers, but this was Meredith Grey, the woman who had not left her thoughts since the first day she saw her. She didn't know how to tell her heart to stop racing.

"Do you have kids?" Meredith asked as they watched the technicians place a now calm Gabriel in the MRI machine.

"Yes, twin boys in their 20s. Henry and Aden," Addison smiled at the thought of her sons.

"Aden... that means son of the redhead, right?" Meredith asked, recalling reading that somewhere.

"And little fire. He had red hair like me, and he was a little feisty when he was a baby," Addison explained.

"That's cute," Meredith smiled shyly. "What about Henry?"

"His name means 'house ruler,'" Addison chuckled.

"And is he?" Meredith asked with mirth.

"He totally is. He's so bossy. He's the one that manages to keep the house standing and his brother in line when I'm not there," Addison said, her love for her children evident in her voice.

"Sounds wonderful," Meredith whispered wistfully.

"Why Gabriel?" Addison asked, genuinely interested.

"It means 'God's my strength,' and he really was. He came at a time when I needed that, I needed an angel. He's my angel," Meredith's voice broke, and she started crying. Without thinking, Addison pulled her into an embrace.

"Gabe will be alright, honey," Addison assured her. Neither was surprised by the pet name that slipped from Addison's mouth, but Addison was scared by how easily it came out. She stayed there until the technicians were done with Gabriel, and the boy was back in his mother's arms.

Addison took them to her perfectly organized office and reviewed the results. "It's just a cold, a bad one, but he'll be alright. I'll prescribe some Tylenol to keep the fever down and an inhaler to help him breathe better," Addison said, scribbling on her notepad. "But if the fever doesn't go down and reaches 104 again, bring him back or call me," she handed Meredith the prescription and her card with her personal cell number on the back.

"Thank you, really!" Meredith breathed deeply in relief. "Thank you so much," she repeated as she stood, balancing the now-sleeping Gabriel in her arms.

"It was my pleasure," Addison smiled pleasantly. "Take care, little angel," she whispered, caressing the boy's blonde locks and watching them leave with a smile.

The redhead sighed, finished her notes, and then decided to go home, her mind full of thoughts of Meredith Grey and her son.

Chapter Text

Aden and Henry were lounging in the living room, a familiar scene during their afternoons together. The large, airy space was filled with the muted sounds of a movie playing on the flat-screen TV, the comfortable hum of their sibling companionship making the moment feel timeless. Both young men were sprawled out on the plush sofa, their attention half-focused on the screen. The coffee table before them was littered with remnants of snacks and an assortment of books and game controllers.

Henry, the elder of the twins by a few minutes, was majoring in genetic science, a passion he had inherited from his mother, Addison. He had always been fascinated by her research papers and discussions on genetic advancements. His keen interest had grown from the bedtime stories she read to him, stories filled with the complexities of genetic codes rather than the usual children's tales.

Aden, on the other hand, had developed a love for romantic literature. Addison had instilled this passion in him through the poetry of Keats and the lyrical verses of Neruda. He was now majoring in romantic literature, exploring the depths of human emotion and expression through the written word.

Both were undeniably brilliant, having secured full scholarships to the best colleges. Their decisions not to pursue medicine, much to Derek's chagrin, had been firm and resolute, showcasing the same stubbornness Addison possessed.

As the movie played, Henry suddenly reached for the remote and paused the film, drawing a puzzled look from Aden.

"Have you noticed anything different in mom?" Henry asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What do you mean?" Aden frowned, his curiosity piqued.

"I don't know, she seems happier," Henry shrugged, glancing at his brother for any sign of shared insight.

"Hmm," Aden hummed thoughtfully, leaning back against the cushions. "I guess so, she seems to be in a better mood these days."

"Do you think she is having an affair?" Henry wondered aloud, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and curiosity.

"I don't know, but if she is, good for her," Aden replied bluntly, his tone hardening. He despised the idea of his father cheating on his mother and felt no sympathy for Derek.

"Well, it must be something at work. She's been getting home late... like way past your bedtime," Henry teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Well, Hen, whatever it is," Aden said, not rising to his brother's bait, "I'm happy for her."

"I'm happy for her too," Henry agreed, his expression softening into a small smile.

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation settling over them. Finally, Aden broke the quiet.

"Is it wrong for me to hope they get divorced someday?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and guilt.

"No, I hope that too," Henry admitted. "Dad doesn't deserve her. She deserves to be happy."

"No cap," Aden grunted, using the slang they both understood. He reached out for the remote and resumed the movie, the earlier discussion slipping to the back of their minds. However, the subtle changes in their mother stayed with them, a quiet reminder of her evolving happiness.

The twins continued to watch the movie, but their thoughts lingered on Addison. They began to notice the little things more and more—the way her smile seemed brighter, the lightness in her step, and the unmistakable joy that had begun to return to her eyes.

The afternoon sun was beginning its descent as Addison Montgomery strolled down Fifth Avenue with her twins, Henry and Aden. It was a rare treat for the three of them to spend a leisurely Friday afternoon together, but Addison had taken time off from the hospital to enjoy this precious family time. Laden with bags from various boutiques, they were a striking trio, their vibrant hair catching the golden light as they laughed and chatted.

Addison, dressed in casual elegance with a simple yet chic blouse and jeans, held several shopping bags in one hand. Henry, sporting a sharp blazer and jeans, carried his own share of bags, while Aden, in a stylish leather jacket and khakis, balanced a pile of boxes and bags with ease. Their shopping spree had been a success, each of them finding new clothes, shoes, and accessories.

As they approached a cozy Italian restaurant with a welcoming terrace, Addison suggested, "How about we grab an early dinner here? The weather is surprisingly nice for early fall."

Henry and Aden exchanged enthusiastic glances. "Sounds perfect, Mom," Henry agreed, adjusting the bags in his grip.

"Yeah, I could definitely go for some pizza," Aden added with a grin.

They settled at a table on the terrace, enjoying the view of the bustling New York street. The restaurant’s atmosphere was warm and inviting, with the aroma of fresh basil and garlic wafting from the kitchen. They ordered a large Margherita pizza to share and some sparkling water, eager to continue their day of relaxation.

"So, tell me about college. How are your classes going?" Addison inquired, her eyes sparkling with interest.

Henry launched into an enthusiastic description of his latest project. "I’m working on a genetic mapping study that looks at the hereditary patterns in rare diseases. It's fascinating, but it’s a lot of work."

Addison nodded, her pride evident. "That sounds incredible, Henry. I’m so proud of you."

Aden chimed in, his eyes lighting up. "I’ve been buried in Romantic literature. We’re diving deep into Keats right now, and it’s amazing how his works reflect the turmoil and beauty of his life. I’ve been thinking of writing a comparative essay on Keats and Neruda."

"That sounds beautiful, Aden. You’ve always had such a way with words," Addison praised, her heart swelling with love for her sons.

Their pizza arrived, and they dug in, savoring the delicious blend of fresh tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil. As they ate, their conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and shared stories.

"Do you remember the time when you read that paper on genetic mutations to me as a bedtime story?" Henry asked, a playful grin on his face.

Addison chuckled. "How could I forget? You were the only kid I knew who preferred scientific journals to fairy tales."

"And Aden, you used to make Mom read Neruda's poems to you every night," Henry teased, nudging his brother.

Aden laughed, not missing a beat. "Well, you know what they say, start 'em young on the classics."

Addison smiled, her heart full. "Those were some of my favorite moments with you two. You’ve both grown into such amazing young men."

Henry looked at his mother with sincere admiration. "We had a pretty great role model, Mom."

"Yeah, you’ve always been there for us, through everything," Aden added, his voice soft with emotion.

Addison reached out, taking both of their hands in hers. "And I always will be. You two are my world."

They continued eating and talking, the afternoon turning into a perfect memory. The bustling city around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of their bond and the joy of their shared time. The terrace, with its view of the busy street, felt like a haven, a place where they could be themselves and enjoy each other's company without the pressures of their busy lives.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the terrace, Addison couldn't help but feel a profound sense of contentment. This was what life was all about—cherishing the moments with those you love most.

The air was filled with the scent of freshly baked pizza and the sound of lively chatter as Addison and her twins, Henry and Aden, enjoyed their dinner on the terrace. Addison's attention momentarily drifted from the conversation as she caught sight of two familiar blonde heads walking down the street. Her eyes locked with a pair of striking blue ones, and both women lit up with recognition and happiness.

"Meredith?" Addison exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and delight.

Meredith quickly approached the table from the sidewalk, a wide smile on her face. She was dressed casually, in jeans and a simple blouse, looking effortlessly beautiful. Addison stood up nervously, reaching over the small fence to hug Meredith. As they embraced, Addison gently caressed Gabriel's head with fondness.

"Addison! It's so good to see you," Meredith greeted her enthusiastically.

"Meredith, what a surprise! How are you? How's Gabriel?" Addison asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"Thanks to you, Gabriel is back in full health," Meredith replied warmly, glancing down at her son who was clinging to her leg.

Addison's twins, Henry and Aden, watched the interaction with curiosity. They exchanged a look that clearly said, "Are you seeing the same thing I'm seeing?"

Aden cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Mom, are you going to introduce us?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

Addison giggled nervously. "Oh, right. Meredith, these are my sons, Henry and Aden."

Meredith smiled, her eyes sparkling with recognition. "You must be Henry," she said, pointing to the one who looked more serious and composed. "And you must be Aden," she continued, pointing to the one with a mischievous smile.

The twins were polite but clearly intrigued by the interaction. "Nice to meet you, Meredith. How do you know our mom?" Henry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Meredith hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Your mom treated my son a few days ago. Gabriel wasn't feeling well, and she helped us out a lot."

Aden and Henry exchanged another look, clearly not buying the simple explanation but choosing not to press further. "Would you like to join us? We have plenty of pizza," Aden offered.

Gabriel perked up at the mention of pizza, and Meredith found herself nodding. "Sure, if it's not too much trouble."

They made room at the table, and Meredith settled in with Gabriel on her lap. The twins were fascinated by the new guest, and their curiosity about Meredith’s life led to a flurry of questions.

"So, what do you do, Meredith?" Henry asked, taking a bite of his pizza.

"I used to be a dancer, and now I teach dance at an academy," Meredith replied.

"That's so cool! What kind of dance do you teach?" Aden asked, leaning forward with interest.

"A bit of everything, really. But mostly ballroom and contemporary," Meredith answered, smiling as Gabriel reached for a slice of pizza.

The twins were captivated, bombarding Meredith with questions about her dancing career and the academy. Gabriel giggled as Aden made funny faces and Henry asked him questions about his favorite toys.

Addison watched the scene unfold, feeling a strange mix of warmth and surrealism. Here was the woman who had occupied her thoughts for weeks, sitting at a table with her sons, fitting in so naturally. She couldn't help but imagine more moments like this, dinners together, outings, and a future where Meredith was a constant presence in their lives. The fantasy both excited and terrified her, but she tried to remain calm.

Despite her attempts to stay composed, Aden and Henry didn't miss the looks their mother was throwing the young blonde. They stored the information away to discuss later, but for now, they enjoyed getting to know Meredith and Gabriel.

As the evening went on, the small family of two and the family of three grew comfortable in each other's presence. Laughter and conversation flowed easily, and by the time they finished their meal, a new bond had formed. Both Addison and Meredith secretly relished the idea of this becoming a regular occurrence.

As they prepared to leave, Addison turned to Meredith. "It was really nice seeing you and Gabriel tonight. Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

Meredith smiled, her eyes meeting Addison's. "I'd like that. Thank you for having us."

As they parted ways, Addison's heart felt lighter. She had taken a step toward something new and exciting, and the warmth of the evening lingered as she and her sons headed home. Both women knew they were on the brink of something special, and they couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

One morning, a few days after their casual and unexpected meeting with Meredith Grey and her son, Henry woke up unusually early, even earlier than Aden. He had been on a binge working on his genetic mapping project and fell asleep quite early in the evening, exhausted and drained. He felt as if he was getting sick, and this was confirmed when he woke up at 5 AM with a pounding headache, a stuffy nose, and a sore throat. Henry stumbled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom with slow and unsteady steps. He washed his face and narrowed his eyes at his reflection in the mirror. He was a complete mess, with dark circles under his eyes, a red nose, and dry, chapped lips.

Almost automatically, he brushed his teeth while scouring his cabinet for some medicine, but he didn't have anything to help with his current condition. He decided to ask his mom for something, knowing she was already awake and prepping breakfast for Aden and his dad. As he stumbled down the hallway, he heard music coming from the kitchen. It sounded like a waltz, a song he didn’t recognize, and he frowned as he continued walking toward the sound.

The light streaming through the kitchen windows blinded him momentarily, making his headache even worse. He adjusted his eyesight and instantly saw his beautiful mother... dancing, or what seemed like dancing. Her steps were unsure but passionate, and she was cooking at the same time. It struck Henry as strange but oddly enticing. The slow notes of the waltz seemed to guide his mother as she moved around the kitchen, her flowing red hair shining in the sunlight.

At first, Henry thought he was hallucinating from the fever, but before he could process it further, his mother turned around and saw him, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Henry?" she asked, stopping the music.

"Morning," he replied with a hoarse voice, prompting Addison to quickly approach him with concern.

"Baby, are you sick?" she asked, placing her hand on his forehead under his sweaty fringe. He sighed at the touch of her cool hand. "You're burning up, mister," she said in her doctor voice. "And you seem to have a nasty cold. Better get some rest today."

She urged him to sit at the table as she went back to her cooking, quickly preparing some chicken soup for him. 

"Do you have something for the cold? My stash ran out," Henry asked, resting his head on his hands, his elbows propped on the table to support his weak body.

"Yes, I'll give you something after we get some food in your stomach," she said, continuing to cook with her back to him. Henry noticed the phone on the counter and the paused waltz. He reached out and pressed play again, the slow notes flooding the kitchen, startling Addison.

The redhead turned around and saw Henry with a mix of fear and anxiety in her eyes.

"Sorry, it's a nice song, relaxing," he said slowly, putting the phone back down. "It helps with my headache. Can you leave it on?"

Addison couldn’t deny him. "Alright," she sighed, going back to cooking. Her body itched to move to the tune, but she resisted with Henry there. She focused on making him feel better instead.

After he ate, and Addison had given him some medicine, she sent him back to his room to rest, promising to check on him throughout the day. Henry appreciated her care and followed her advice. However, he couldn’t shake the image of her dancing to the waltz, so happy and carefree. He hadn’t seen her that happy in a long time.

Henry Montgomery-Shepherd lay in his bed, the morning light filtering softly through the curtains. His head throbbed, and his body felt heavy with the weight of the flu. His mother, Addison Montgomery, had sent him back to his room to rest after a light breakfast, her concern evident in her eyes. She had then left for work, leaving a note and breakfast in the microwave for Aden, Henry's twin brother.

Aden, ever the early bird, had woken up and gone through his morning routine with practiced ease. The moment he crossed the hall to Henry's room, he sensed something was off. The room felt unusually still, there was no snoring as usual. 

Without hesitation, Aden slipped into the room and was pulled towards the bed by an instinctive bond. Seeing his brother's trembling form, he climbed into bed behind him, wrapping his arms around Henry's shivering body. The moment Aden's warmth enveloped him, Henry's tremors ceased, and he sighed in relief, recognizing the familiar comfort of his younger twin.

They stayed like that for hours, Aden keeping a vigilant eye on Henry's condition, ensuring he didn't spike a fever. Addison, knowing her son's habits, understood why Aden never made it to the dining room. She left a plate covered with a note in the microwave, instructing him to eat and take care of Henry.

As if sensing his mother's departure, Henry stirred and turned to face Aden. His eyes, usually bright and mischievous, were clouded with a troubled expression.

"What's wrong?" Aden asked, his voice soft with concern.

"I saw mom dancing earlier," Henry replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aden chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Mom doesn't dance. They didn't even dance at their wedding because she refused. Are you sure you weren't hallucinating from the fever?"

"I thought I was, but I wasn't," Henry insisted. "She was really dancing to this beautiful waltz while cooking. It was strange. But she looked happy, really happy. I can't get her smile and her peaceful face out of my mind."

Aden's expression softened. "She's been happy lately. We agreed on that. Do you think her lover is a dancer?"

"Perhaps. And who's the dancer we met the other day?" Henry asked, his mind racing.

"Meredith Grey," Aden said, realization dawning on him. "Do you think they're having an affair?" he whispered, his voice tinged with shock.

"I don't know, but Mom looked really happy to see her. They were both happy to see each other," Henry reasoned.

Aden nodded thoughtfully. "There's something going on for real, and we need to know what it is."

"For what?" Henry asked, frowning.

"So it doesn't take us by surprise, and we can support her through this. If she's having an affair, we'll support her. If she's having a mid-life crisis and has taken up dancing classes, we'll support her," Aden explained, his voice steady and determined.

Henry nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "It doesn't matter what it is, we'll support her."

The matter settled, they lay in comfortable silence, the bond between them stronger than ever.

Chapter Text

Henry gingerly followed his younger brother up the stairs of a ratty old office building, grumbling under his breath about being up so early and about the inconvenience of buildings with elevators that didn't work. 

"This better be worth it, Den," he muttered. "These stairs are killing me."

Aden rolled his eyes but kept leading the way. He had found a PI office on the internet that wasn’t too expensive, and both of them would be covering the expenses. Despite Henry's reservations, Aden was determined.

"Den, is this really necessary? I'm sure if we just ask her, she would tell us," Henry gasped as they reached the floor they were meant to reach.

"Hen, you know Mom. She'd tell us not to worry, but she wouldn't give us the whole truth. Worse, if she feels we’re onto her, she’ll stop whatever it is that's making her happy and be unhappy again," Aden explained for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Before Henry could respond, a striking woman in her early thirties approached them, radiating an effortless allure that turned heads wherever she went.

"Hello boys, can I help you?" she asked, her voice smooth and inviting.

Henry and Aden were momentarily stunned. Her piercing hazel eyes seemed to see right through them, softened only by a mischievous twinkle. Her features were distinctly Mediterranean, with a finely sculpted Greek nose, sun-kissed skin, and high cheekbones. Her short, straight, jet-black hair framed her face perfectly, accentuating her sharp jawline and slender neck. Her style was a blend of elegance and practicality, polished and impeccable, whether she was in a tailored suit or something more casual.

"Hello, we are looking for Sophia Devine," Aden managed to say when Henry couldn’t utter a word, still staring at her dumbstruck.

"That’s me," Sophia smiled, offering her hand to Aden and then to Henry, who clumsily grabbed it, smiling dumbly. "What can I do for you?" she asked as she opened the door to her office and invited them inside.

The office looked like something out of an old crime movie, with its vintage furniture and dim lighting. Aden and Henry took seats in front of Sophia's desk as she sat behind it in her high leather chair, observing them with expectancy.

Aden took the lead in explaining their concerns. "We think our mom might be having an affair. She comes home late on Wednesdays, her shirts smell like perfume—not her usual perfume. She’s been seen making strange body movements, and we feel she has a secret."

Sophia listened intently, nodding occasionally. "So, she comes home late on Wednesdays, smells like a different perfume, and has been acting strangely. You’re concerned she might be hiding something," she repeated to confirm.

"That's correct," Henry said for the first time, recalling the night he saw his mother 'dancing' in the kitchen.

"Ever thought of asking her what's going on?" Sophia asked, her eyes settling on Henry, making him blush.

"I did suggest that," Henry grunted, sending his brother a murderous glare that Aden happily ignored.

"The thing is, we know our mother. She won’t tell us, and if she feels we’re suspicious, she’ll stop whatever she’s doing that makes her happy. We want her to be happy," Aden explained sincerely.

Sophia leaned back, crossing her arms. "Look, things happen in long marriages. Sometimes they don’t mean anything. They don’t need an investigator, just someone to look the other way for a while."

"Our mom is a serious woman, Ms. Devine," Henry said, a little outraged.

"Call me Sophia," she interjected.

"Sophia," Henry blushed again but continued. "If she’s having an affair, it’s not casual. In which case, the sooner we know, the better."

Sophia observed them for a moment before leaning back. "Why is this so important to you? I would understand your father coming here, but it’s unusual for the children to ask me to investigate their mother."

"Our dad doesn’t care. He’s cheating on her, and we all know it, but they’re too cowardly to acknowledge that their marriage is done. We want her to be happy, and we want to be a part of that," Aden explained passionately. "But we need to prepare for whatever it is," he added softly.

Sophia sighed. "All right. Give me a moment while I call in my associate, Mr. Blackwood." She turned to the side and raised her voice. "Ethan!"

A side door opened, revealing the most beautiful man Aden had ever seen. Ethan Blackwood epitomized the bad boy with a heart of gold. His dark, wavy hair fell just past his shoulders, always impeccably groomed yet effortlessly tousled. His piercing dark green eyes held a depth and intensity that could both intimidate and allure, often shadowed by a playful, almost sinful smirk.

Ethan’s rugged charm was accentuated by his attire—a well-worn leather jacket, snug jeans, and boots. Tattoos snaked up his arms and peeked out from beneath his shirt collar, each one telling a story. A few piercings added to his edgy appearance, hinting at a wild side that contrasted sharply with his refined intellect.

"He's Ethan Blackwood. Ethan, these are Henry and Aden Montgomery-Shepherd," Sophia introduced them. "They want me to investigate their mother because they think she might be having an affair, and they want to know beforehand to be prepared and support her."

"Ah, 'We are born of love; love is our mother,'" Ethan said in a deep, wistful voice.

"Rumi said that," Aden murmured, awed by the man before him.

Ethan smiled softly, recognizing a kindred spirit. "It’s very nice to meet you both," he said, offering his calloused hand to them, lingering on the touch of Aden's hand.

"I think we can start this investigation without too much cost to Aden and Henry," Sophia said, sharing a complicit smile with Ethan.

"Yes. We’ll follow their mom around for a few days, take some pictures, see what’s up," Ethan nodded.

"But I have to warn you, if it goes to trial, it’s going to be..." Sophia started before Henry interrupted her.

"Trial?"

"In the case of a divorce," Sophia said matter-of-factly.

"Oh!" Henry blushed furiously again.

"Look, this is what we’ll do. We start out gently. See what she’s doing, and then 2,000 ought to cover our time. However, if we find something sordid or unexpected, we will need to renegotiate," Sophia proposed.

"That sounds good," both Aden and Henry said at the same time, their twin talk eliciting coos from Ethan and Sophia.

"All right, this might be personal, but do you have moments like this all the time where you say the same phrases?" Sophia asked.

"Yeah, twin talk," Aden chuckled. "It used to drive our parents mad when we were little."

"Now, it doesn’t happen so often, but I don’t think it’s just twin talk. It’s that we spend a lot of time together," Henry explained.

"I think twin talk sounds better," Sophia teased.

The brothers laughed, feeling more at ease as they began this strange but necessary journey with Sophia and Ethan to uncover the truth about their mother's secret.

Chapter Text

Meredith Grey didn’t believe in coincidences.

That’s why, when Addison Montgomery showed up at her dance studio—clumsy but determined—her instincts screamed that there was more to the story. Addison wasn’t the kind of woman who ventured into something without a clear purpose, and yet, there she was: feet out of position, muscles tense, frustration simmering in every exhale.

At first, Meredith hadn’t bothered to understand why Addison had decided to dance. She was just another student, another person looking to escape their routine. But after several classes, she started noticing the little details: how Addison arrived late but never left quickly, how her fingers clutched at the fabric of her skirt when she thought no one was looking, how her laughter sounded freer each time she managed a step without stumbling. How, despite her initial reluctance, she never missed a class.

And most revealing of all: how she looked at her.

It wasn’t an inquisitive or competitive gaze, like it had been in the past. It was something different, something Meredith wasn’t sure she wanted to analyze too closely.

One night, when most of the students had already left, Meredith found her alone in the studio, repeating a turn in front of the mirror. Her reflection showed pure concentration—but also something deeper, something more vulnerable.

Meredith leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching as Addison attempted the spin again. The movement was sharp, almost forceful, and when she stopped, she wobbled slightly, exhaling in frustration.

“You’re going to make yourself dizzy if you keep that up.”

Addison jerked to a halt and turned, her expression shifting between embarrassment and stubborn determination. “I just need to get it right.”

“You’re forcing it,” Meredith observed, stepping further into the room. “That’s not how dance works. It’s about control, yes, but also letting go. You’re fighting yourself.”

Addison scoffed, rolling her shoulders back. “I don’t fight myself. I fight everyone else.”

Meredith smirked. “That’s probably true. But right now, you’re your own worst enemy.”

She walked up behind her, standing just close enough for Addison to feel the warmth of her presence. “Try again,” she instructed, her voice softer now. “Close your eyes before you turn. Feel it before you do it.”

Addison hesitated, then did as she was told. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and turned—this time slower, more fluid. When she stopped, her body was steady, her expression almost surprised.

Meredith grinned. “See? That was better.”

Addison opened her eyes and met Meredith’s gaze through the mirror. “Maybe,” she admitted, though her lips curved just slightly at the corners. “You’re a good teacher.”

Meredith shrugged. “You’re a good student. When you stop trying so hard.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt charged in a way Meredith hadn’t expected. It was Addison who looked away first, clearing her throat as she bent down to grab her bag.

“I’ll do better tomorrow,” she murmured, keeping her eyes on the floor.

Meredith watched her leave, her arms still crossed, but her mind racing. Something told her Addison wasn’t just learning to dance.

She was running from something.

And Meredith couldn’t help but wonder—from what, or from whom?

Chapter Text

Addison Montgomery had never been one to run away. She faced storms head-on, battled chaos with composure, and carved a name for herself in the world of medicine with unrelenting determination. But somewhere along the way, she had lost herself.

Her days blurred into a monotonous cycle of long hospital hours, empty conversations, and a marriage that felt more like an obligation than a partnership. She wasn’t unhappy, not exactly. But she wasn’t happy either. She was existing, moving through life like a dancer without music—precise, practiced, but devoid of passion.

And then, she found the studio.

The first time she stepped onto the polished wooden floor, she felt foolish. A surgeon with two left feet, desperate enough for a change that she signed up for dance lessons on a whim. It should have been laughable. Maybe it was. But the moment she heard the soft hum of music, the way the notes curled around the room like a lover’s whisper, she felt something shift inside her.

Then Meredith Grey walked in.

Addison hadn’t expected her. Not here, not like this. Not barefoot on a dance floor, wearing a loose sweater that slipped off one shoulder, her hair wild from movement, her voice soft and gentle.

She had nearly left that night. Nearly turned around and walked out the door before Meredith could see her. But something kept her there—something deeper than pride, stronger than reason.

And now, weeks later, she stood in the empty studio, barefoot and breathless, spinning alone in front of the mirror. The music had faded into silence, but she still felt it thrumming beneath her skin.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she placed her hands on her hips, catching her own reflection in the mirror. There was color in her cheeks, a lightness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. The woman staring back at her looked… different. Less like a surgeon, more like someone discovering herself again.

“Addison.”

Her name, spoken in that voice—low, knowing—sent a shiver down her spine. She turned, her pulse skittering as Meredith leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with something unreadable in her eyes.

Addison swallowed, pushing a damp strand of hair from her face. “You’re still here.”

Meredith stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. “So are you.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Addison admitted, her voice quieter now.

Meredith nodded as if she understood exactly what she meant. “Neither could I.”

A silence settled between them, thick with something unspoken. The studio, once a place of structured movement, now felt charged with an energy neither of them dared name. Meredith’s eyes dropped to Addison’s bare feet, then to the way her fingers played absently with the hem of her top, a nervous habit she rarely indulged in.

“You know,” Meredith finally said, her voice a little softer now, “you’re good at this.”

Addison huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t think anyone’s ever accused me of that before.”

Meredith tilted her head, considering her. “I’m not just talking about dancing.”

The words settled between them, heavy and delicate all at once. Addison’s throat tightened, her fingers curling into her palms. She should deflect, change the subject, throw up a wall—anything but acknowledge the growing warmth spreading through her chest.

But instead, she reached for the music again, pressing play without breaking Meredith’s gaze.

“Dance with me,” she whispered.

Meredith hesitated for only a second before stepping forward, her hand sliding into Addison’s with a certainty that sent warmth flooding through her veins. The music swelled, slow and intoxicating, and as they moved—bodies close, breaths mingling—Addison felt something she hadn’t in a long time.

Alive.

Their movements were hesitant at first, each step uncertain, like testing the waters of something neither of them could fully name. Addison inhaled deeply, catching the faintest scent of Meredith’s shampoo—something light, citrusy, grounding. Their fingers intertwined without thought, Meredith’s palm warm against her own.

“You’re leading,” Meredith murmured, lips quirking in the ghost of a smile.

“Is that a problem?” Addison asked, her voice quieter than usual, more intimate.

Meredith’s lips parted slightly, her gaze flickering downward for the briefest second. “No.”

The confession lingered in the space between them as Addison slowly guided them into another turn. The music played on, weaving through the air like a secret only they understood. With each step, Addison felt something unfurl inside her, something long dormant now stretching awake.

She had come here searching for something—an escape, a distraction, a way to feel anything other than the weight of her own life pressing down on her shoulders. She hadn’t expected to find Meredith. Hadn’t expected to feel this—whatever this was—burning slow and sweet beneath her ribs.

As the song reached its final notes, their movements stilled, leaving them standing inches apart. Addison could feel Meredith’s breath against her cheek, could see the way her lashes fluttered as she hesitated, unsure of what came next.

But for once, Addison didn’t need an answer. Not yet.

She squeezed Meredith’s hand gently before letting go, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Meredith held her gaze for a long moment before nodding. “Yeah. Same time tomorrow.”

And as Addison watched her walk away, she realized that for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t running from something.

She was running toward it.

Chapter Text

Sophia had tailed criminals before—actual criminals. People with sneaky tendencies, people who knew they were being followed, people who were trained in the art of slipping away. And yet, none of them had been as difficult to track as Addison Montgomery, an unsuspecting surgeon who, as far as Sophia knew, had no experience in counter-surveillance.

And yet…

“Where the hell is she going?” Ethan hissed, pressing himself against the side of a newspaper stand as Addison abruptly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

Sophia, crouched behind a parked bicycle, glared at him. “I don’t know, but if she stops one more time, my knees are going to give out.”

Addison had been walking at a completely normal pace—until she wasn’t. Every few steps, she would pause, glance at her surroundings, and change direction without warning. Once, she even walked into a café, only to exit through the side door as if she had planned an entire escape route.

“This woman is unpredictable,” Ethan muttered as they peeked around a lamppost, watching Addison pull out her phone, stare at it, then cross the street at the very last second, nearly causing Sophia and Ethan to trip over themselves trying to follow.

Sophia wiped sweat from her brow. “She has no idea we’re following her, right?”

“I doubt it,” Ethan said. “She doesn’t seem like the ‘paranoid about being followed’ type. But she moves like she’s playing some kind of twisted urban maze.”

Then, without warning, Addison stopped again.

Right in front of a boutique’s display window.

Sophia and Ethan, mid-stride, had no time to react. They tried to turn, but instead crashed directly into each other, tumbling to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs.

Addison turned, blinking at the sudden commotion. Sophia, thinking fast, grabbed Ethan’s face and pulled him into an exaggerated kiss.

“WHAT THE—” Ethan started to protest, but Sophia pinched his side warningly.

“Oh my God,” Addison muttered under her breath before quickly walking away, clearly disturbed by the very public display of affection.

As soon as she was gone, Sophia shoved Ethan off her. “You’re welcome,” she huffed.

Ethan gagged. “You could’ve just said we were lost!”

“And miss the chance to traumatize her a little? No way.”

Ethan groaned, rubbing his temples. “I swear, sometimes I don’t know if you’re an amazing detective or just completely unhinged.”

Sophia grinned. “Why not both?”

Later that evening, Henry found himself sitting across from Sophia at a diner, attempting to focus on his meal while she smirked at him.

“You’re blushing again,” she teased, stirring her milkshake lazily.

Henry groaned, dropping his fork. “I am not.”

“You totally are.”

“I’m just—” Henry sighed. “Look, can we focus on the case?”

Sophia propped her chin on her hand, watching him with an amused glint in her hazel eyes. “You are the case,” she said playfully. “Your reaction to me is fascinating.”

Henry nearly choked on his drink. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Sophia grinned. “Oh, immensely.”

Meanwhile, Aden was regretting every life decision that had led him to this moment.

Ethan leaned against the railing of the rooftop they were perched on, watching the city below with an easy, almost poetic kind of grace. “You know,” Ethan said, his voice smooth as silk, “the night air makes your eyes look almost golden.”

Aden stiffened, side-eyeing him. “What?”

“I said—” Ethan leaned in slightly. “—the night air makes your eyes look—”

“I heard you,” Aden cut in, face heating up despite himself. “I’m just trying to figure out if you actually think that, or if you just like watching me squirm.”

Ethan smirked. “Why can’t it be both?”

Aden scowled. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” Ethan mused, stepping just a little closer, “you haven’t walked away.”

Aden swallowed hard. “You said you were going to teach me some PI tricks,” he deflected, crossing his arms.

Ethan grinned. “Right. Surveillance 101.” He stepped behind Aden, placing his hands lightly on his shoulders. “First, you need to learn how to blend in. Imagine you’re a shadow, moving unnoticed.”

Aden could feel the warmth of Ethan’s breath against his ear, and he absolutely hated the way his stomach flipped.

“Second,” Ethan continued, his voice almost a purr, “you have to learn how to read body language. Observe without being obvious.”

Aden exhaled shakily. “And what exactly are you observing right now?”

Ethan’s fingers skimmed over the curve of Aden’s shoulder as he whispered, “That you like this more than you want to admit.”

Aden spun around so fast he nearly stumbled, but Ethan only chuckled, stepping back with an infuriatingly smug expression.

“Lesson over,” Ethan said, winking. “For now.”

Aden groaned. He was in trouble.

Chapter Text

Sophia adjusted the lens of her camera, squinting as she and Ethan sat hidden in a parked car across from the dance studio. The heat was unbearable, and the stale scent of fast food wrappers was making her nauseous. “Okay, we’ve been tailing her for weeks, and this is the first time she’s actually meeting someone in secret,” she muttered, shifting in her seat. “Let’s hope it’s scandalous.”

Ethan peered over her shoulder, sipping a half-melted iced coffee. “If we don’t get something juicy, I’m demanding a refund on the amount of time I’ve spent hiding in bushes for this case. Do you know how many spider bites I have? I’m practically part of the ecosystem.”

Sophia grinned. “Patience, my dear Watson. The best moments require a little—oh, holy hell.”

Through the large studio windows, Addison Montgomery was unmistakably tangled in the arms of Meredith Grey. But it wasn’t just a simple embrace. Addison had spun—perhaps too fast—and stumbled directly into Meredith’s arms. From their angle, it looked intimate, dramatic, almost like a scene from a romance movie. Meredith had caught her effortlessly, their faces mere inches apart, lips slightly parted in shock. The dim glow of the studio’s ambient lighting only added to the effect.

Ethan’s eyes widened. “Well. That’s certainly something.”

Sophia snapped a dozen pictures in rapid succession, her heartbeat picking up. “Are we sure she didn’t just dip her for fun?”

“Who dips someone for fun?”

“You’d be surprised.”

Inside the studio, Meredith sighed. “Addison, you need to let go of the tension in your shoulders.”

“I would,” Addison muttered, still breathless from the spin, “if I wasn’t currently processing the fact that I almost face-planted onto the hardwood floor.”

Meredith smirked, not letting go just yet. “You do realize I would’ve caught you either way, right?”

Addison swallowed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Outside, Ethan and Sophia exchanged knowing looks.

Henry nearly dropped the phone. His jaw slackened, his eyes darting between the screen and Aden. “MOM IS IN LOVE WITH MEREDITH GREY?!”

Aden, sprawled lazily on the couch, snatched the phone from his hands and studied the image with growing amusement. “Well. That escalated quickly.” He zoomed in. “Damn, that’s some cinematic lighting.”

Henry was pacing now, hands in his hair. “Okay, okay, let’s not freak out—”

“You’re already freaking out.”

“Fine, let’s not freak out more.” Henry turned, gripping Aden’s shoulders. “We wanted her to leave Dad, right? We were literally rooting for her to have an affair! But we thought it would be, like, a slow-burn thing. A maybe-they-kiss-in-two-years kind of thing. Not whatever this is.”

Aden smirked, tossing the phone onto the coffee table. “Turns out Mom doesn’t waste time.”

Henry groaned, rubbing his temples. “Do we… talk to her about this?”

Aden shrugged, stretching his arms behind his head. “Or we could keep digging. You know, make sure it’s real before we do something stupid.”

Henry exhaled, nodding. “Right. We confirm first.”

Aden smirked. “I love how we’re treating our mom’s potential love affair like a crime investigation.”

Henry shot him a look. “It’s not a crime investigation.”

Aden crossed his arms. “Then why do we have a literal evidence board with a red string?”

Henry pointed a finger at him. “It’s organized thinking .”

Aden arched his brow. “It’s obsessive stalking .”

Henry ignored that. “We watch. We wait. We gather intel.”

Aden grinned. “We stalk.”

Henry sighed. “We investigate.”

They fist-bumped.

The mission continued.

Chapter Text

For weeks, Addison threw herself into training with a level of dedication she hadn't felt in years. She kept her new obsession from Derek, from her co-workers, from everyone who wouldn’t understand. But in the studio, she was alive. The wooden floors, the mirrored walls, the intoxicating rhythm of the music—it was her escape, her sanctuary.

Meredith noticed.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Meredith murmured one evening as they finished a routine. Addison was breathless, her forehead damp with sweat, but her eyes gleamed.

“I have to be perfect,” Addison said. “If I’m going to do this, I need to win.”

Meredith smirked, tilting her head. “You sound like Cristina.”

“Oh God, don’t say that.” Addison groaned, shaking out her arms. “I already have to deal with her critiques every time she steps in to help with the Latin dances.”

Cristina, standing nearby, tossed a towel at Addison’s face. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Addison rolled her eyes but smiled. Cooper, her assigned partner for the ballroom routines, clapped a hand on her back. “Relax, Montgomery. We’ve got this.”

The weeks flew by in a blur of aching muscles, bruised feet, and stolen moments of laughter. Addison and Cooper perfected their waltz, their movements seamless. Meanwhile, Cristina and Cooper dominated the Latin dances with an intensity that left spectators in awe.

Outside of the studio, the investigation continued.

Sophia had started making charts. “At this point, we have enough evidence to write a New York Times exposé,” she told Aden and Henry one night, laying out their latest findings. “Your mom is definitely keeping secrets.”

Henry, holding a printout of Addison and Meredith dancing, tapped it thoughtfully. “Good secrets, though?”

Aden shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.

The grand ballroom was electric, alive with shimmering dresses and crisp tuxedos. The music vibrated through the polished floors as dancers twirled under the dazzling chandeliers. Addison inhaled deeply, standing at the edge of the floor, waiting for her turn. Her heartbeat synced with the rhythm of the music.

The waltz with Cooper went beautifully. Their movements were fluid, effortless, years of experience translating into perfect harmony. The judges watched with keen interest, and when they finished, the applause was deafening.

Then came the quickstep.

The moment they stepped onto the floor, Addison felt a shift. The music was fast, the energy infectious. She let go, allowing the rhythm to take her. She was weightless, lost in the dance—

Until she heard it.

“ADDISON!”

The voice was sharp, furious.

Derek.

She whipped her head around, searching the crowd. At the same time, she heard another voice—cheering.

“GO, MOM!”

Henry. And Aden.

Addison’s breath caught. She twisted, trying to locate them both—

And in that split second, everything fell apart.

Cooper moved right, Addison moved left. Their feet tangled.

And then she was falling.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as Addison and Cooper crashed onto the polished floor. The music carried on, oblivious, but the moment was already lost. The competition was over for them.

Disqualified.

Heart pounding, Addison scrambled up, but her gaze locked onto Derek, standing at the edge of the ballroom, fury radiating off him. Without thinking, she bolted toward the exit, grabbing Henry and Aden on the way.

“Mom—wait!” Henry protested as she dragged them to the parking garage.

Derek was right behind her. “What the hell was that?!”

Addison spun around, breathing heavily. “Derek—”

“You’ve been lying to me. Hiding this from me!” His voice echoed through the garage. “Dance competitions, secret lessons—what else, Addison? What else are you hiding?”

She swallowed hard. “I didn’t lie—”

“You didn’t tell me.”

Henry and Aden exchanged nervous glances.

Derek exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

The words struck deeper than she expected. Addison clenched her fists. “Maybe that’s because I’m finally figuring it out.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with everything unsaid.

Then, without another word, Addison turned and got into the car. The drive home was quiet, tense. When they arrived, she went straight to bed, shutting herself away from the world.

The next morning, she quit the competition.

She stopped going to the dance studio.

The light that had been in her eyes for weeks faded, much to the dismay of everyone—especially Henry and Aden.

They lasted two weeks before they’d had enough.

One evening, they sat their parents down.

“We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

The living room was eerily silent as Addison sat on the couch, her fingers curled around the edge of her sweater. Henry and Aden stood before her, their expressions set with determination, their father sitting stiffly across from them.

Henry cleared his throat. "We need to talk."

Addison sighed. "Henry—"

"No, Mom. Listen to us." Henry’s voice was firm, but not unkind. "We love watching you dance. It made you happy. Really happy. And we haven’t seen that in... a long time."

Addison’s breath caught, but before she could say anything, Aden’s voice cut in—sharp, loud, and filled with rage.

"And it pisses me off," Aden snapped, turning his fiery glare toward Derek. "That you, of all people, had the audacity to show up there and ruin everything."

Derek’s jaw clenched. "Aden—"

"No, shut the fuck up!" Aden shouted, his hands balling into fists. "You’ve been a lousy husband for years, and now—what? You get jealous because Mom found something that made her happy? Give me a break."

Derek stood abruptly, his expression dark. "You don’t get to talk to me like that."

"Like hell, I don’t!" Aden shot back, stepping closer. "You don’t deserve Mom. You never did! You treated her like an afterthought, expected her to be some perfect wife while you played God in an operating room."

Derek’s mouth pressed into a thin line. "This is between your mother and me."

"No, it’s not," Aden sneered. "Because we had to watch her break piece by piece while you pretended not to notice." He shook his head, disgusted. "How the fuck did you even get there, huh? How did you even find out?"

Derek hesitated, looking away, and Aden narrowed his eyes. "Well?"

Derek sighed heavily, rubbing his temples before finally muttering, "I was on a date."

The silence was deafening.

"Excuse me?" Henry's voice was eerily calm compared to Aden’s brewing storm.

"I was on a date," Derek repeated, his voice carrying a tinge of guilt—but not enough. "With an intern. I've been seeing her for a while."

Aden let out a humorless laugh. "Unbelievable." He turned to Addison, who sat there, expression unreadable. "And he had the nerve to be mad at you ?"

Derek exhaled sharply. "I didn’t know she was dancing, okay? I saw her there, and—"

"And what? You lost your fucking mind?" Aden barked. "You don’t get to be mad, Derek. You lost that right when you started screwing around with interns!"

Derek had nothing to say to that. He stood there, lips pressed tightly together, taking the brunt of Aden’s wrath.

Finally, Addison moved. She stood slowly, her gaze locked onto Derek. When she spoke, her voice was calm—too calm.

"I call my lawyers in the morning," she said, her tone like steel. "Clearly, this marriage is more than over."

Derek looked at her then, really looked at her, and whatever he saw made him lower his head slightly.

Addison turned to her sons, her expression softening slightly. "Thank you for your support, my demons, but I'm tired. I’m retiring to the guest room."

With that, she walked away, her steps steady, her posture unwavering. Henry didn’t even spare Derek another glance before following after her.

Aden, however, lingered. He stepped up to his father, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You better give her this divorce quickly and easily, or I swear to God, I will make your life hell ."

Derek swallowed, nodding slightly, knowing there was no fighting back. Not against Aden. Not against the truth.

Aden scoffed, shaking his head one last time before he turned and followed Henry and Addison, leaving Derek standing alone in the wreckage of everything he had destroyed.

Henry and Aden had every intention of following their mother to the guest room, but Addison had other plans. Instead, she stepped out onto the balcony, drawn to the open air as though it could somehow lessen the weight on her chest. The night was bitterly cold, but she didn’t seem to notice. The wind toyed with her auburn hair, strands slipping free from her loose ponytail as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Henry and Aden exchanged a look. They had never seen their mother smoke—not once. They themselves had picked up the habit occasionally, Aden favoring his vape while Henry stuck to the occasional cigarette, but Addison? Never. This was new, and it only confirmed how deeply distressed she was.

Without a word, Henry disappeared inside for a moment, returning with a thick blanket. He draped it over her shoulders just as she lit up, the flame from the lighter briefly illuminating her face. Her hands trembled slightly as she took a slow drag, exhaling a stream of smoke into the frigid air.

Aden leaned against the railing beside her, pulling out his vape. He took a long pull before glancing at her sideways. "You know, Mom, if you wanted to pick up a bad habit, I could’ve gotten you something that doesn’t stink up your clothes."

Henry, more old-fashioned, plucked a cigarette from her pack. "Shut up, Aden. This is clearly a special occasion."

A bitter laugh escaped Addison’s lips, but it was devoid of humor. "Is that what we’re calling this? A special occasion?" Her voice was rough, weary. She took another drag, her gaze distant. The city lights stretched before them, but she wasn’t really seeing them.

For a while, the three of them smoked and vaped in silence, the only sounds the occasional gust of wind and the distant hum of the city. It was Henry who finally broke the quiet, his voice soft but edged with exasperation. "Why did you keep it a secret?"

Addison stiffened. The question—so simple, so obvious—cut through her like a knife. Her grip on the cigarette faltered. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, a choked sob escaped her lips, and suddenly, she was breaking down, her body trembling as the weight of everything crashed over her all at once.

Henry and Aden were at her side in an instant, their cigarettes and vape forgotten. They wrapped their arms around her, shielding her from the cold, from her own anguish.

Addison clung to them, her fingers digging into the fabric of their shirts. "I just..." She gasped between sobs. "I didn’t think I was allowed to have something for myself anymore."

Henry and Aden shared a glance over her head, their expressions darkening. Henry pressed his chin against her temple. "Of course you are, Mom. You’re allowed to be happy."

She shook her head violently. "But I wasn’t. Not until—" She broke off, exhaling shakily. "Not until I found dancing."

Aden pulled back slightly, watching her carefully. "So, what? You just walked into a studio one day and decided, ‘Hey, I think I’ll take up ballroom’?"

Addison let out a wet chuckle, wiping at her eyes. "Something like that. I was driving home one night, and I saw the studio. The lights, the movement... and then there was her."

Henry frowned. "Meredith?"

She nodded, a wistful, almost pained look crossing her face. "She was in the window, dancing, and I—" She took a deep breath. "I don’t know why, but I stopped the car. I just sat there, watching. And then, before I knew it, I was inside, signing up for classes."

Aden’s eyes narrowed. "So that’s how it started. And then?"

Addison hesitated before finally admitting, "And then it became more than just dance. I started feeling like myself again. I started waking up and actually wanting to go to work, wanting to come home and see you boys, wanting to—wanting to live."

Henry reached for her hand, squeezing it. "That’s not a bad thing, Mom."

Addison bit her lip, looking down at the cigarette in her other hand. "I thought..." Her voice wavered. "I thought I was falling in love with her. And Gabriel. But I don’t even know if they—if she—feels the same way."

Aden scoffed. "Mom. Have you met yourself? Of course she feels the same way."

She gave a small, broken laugh, shaking her head. "I don’t know. And even if she did, does it even matter now? After everything?"

Henry and Aden both bristled. Henry’s voice was firm. "It does matter. You were happy, Mom. We saw it. And that means something."

But Addison just shook her head again. "It doesn’t matter. I’m done with it. It’s over."

The finality in her voice made something twist painfully in both Henry and Aden’s chests. They didn’t push her any further that night, but as they sat with her in silence, they made a silent agreement.

They weren’t going to let this go.

Their mother deserved happiness. And if she wasn’t going to fight for it, they damn well would.

The following weeks were filled with lawyers, paperwork, and the division of assets. Addison barely spoke during the meetings, her demeanor cold and detached. Derek, for all his faults, didn’t fight her on much. He gave her almost everything—except for a plot of land he had purchased in Seattle.

"I’ll be moving there," he admitted during one of their last meetings. "Starting over."

Addison merely nodded, signing another document without looking at him.

There was no custody battle. Aden and Henry were adults now, and neither of them wanted anything to do with him.

Derek tried—half-heartedly—to make peace with them before he left. "I’m still your father," he had told them. "That hasn’t changed."

Aden had laughed bitterly. "You were never much of one to begin with."

Henry was less harsh, but just as firm. "We’re done, Dad. Just go."

And so Derek left, alone.

No wife. No children.

Just an empty plane ticket and a future that no longer included them.

But as Henry and Aden watched their mother retreat further into herself, they knew one thing for certain.

This wasn’t over. Not yet.

And they were going to fix it.

Chapter Text

Henry and Aden had always been protective of their mother, but this time, they weren’t just defending her—they were trying to save her. After weeks of watching Addison retreat further into herself, seeing the light that dancing had ignited in her eyes fade, they knew they had to do something drastic.

So they turned to Sophia and Ethan.

It was a different request this time, one that neither private investigator had anticipated.

“You want us to find Meredith ?” Sophia asked, leaning back in her chair, raising an intrigued eyebrow.

Henry nodded. “Yeah. We need to talk to her.”

Ethan smirked. “You’re not hiring us to spy anymore, but to reconnect people now? That’s quite the pivot.”

Aden shot him a glare. “Don’t be a smartass. We’re serious. Mom is—” He hesitated, exhaling sharply. “She’s miserable. She won’t admit it, but she’s back to just existing , and we refuse to let that happen. She was happy , dammit. And the only person who might be able to fix that is Meredith.”

Sophia and Ethan exchanged a glance.

“Well,” Sophia said, standing and grabbing her jacket. “What are we waiting for?”

“Finding Meredith wasn’t difficult.

Showing up at her house unannounced, however, was a different story.

Henry, Aden, Sophia, and Ethan stood outside the modest brownstone in nervous silence. Aden shifted on his feet, uncharacteristically fidgety, while Henry took a deep breath and knocked.

Seconds later, the door opened to reveal Meredith Grey, her blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail, dressed in casual sweats. Her eyes widened in recognition at the twins, but flickered warily to Sophia and Ethan.

“Henry. Aden,” she said cautiously. “This is unexpected.”

Henry cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh—sorry for showing up like this.”

“But it’s important,” Aden added quickly.

Meredith studied them for a beat before stepping aside. “Come in.”

As they entered, the soft patter of small feet sounded from the hallway, and seconds later, a tiny, wobbly toddler barreled toward them.

“Gabe,” Meredith murmured fondly, bending down to scoop him up, but before she could, Henry crouched down, extending his arms.

“Can I?” he asked with an easy smile.

Meredith hesitated for only a moment before nodding.

Henry effortlessly lifted Gabriel into his arms, bouncing him lightly. The boy giggled, tugging at Henry’s shirt, and Meredith softened. She had always noticed how good Henry was with kids, especially Gabriel.

Aden, Sophia, and Ethan settled into the modest living room, the atmosphere shifting into something more solemn as everyone took their seats. Meredith perched on the couch, watching them warily.

“Alright,” she said, gaze flickering between them. “What’s this about?”

Aden leaned forward, fingers tapping against his knee. “It’s about our mother.”

Meredith’s lips parted slightly, surprise flashing across her face.

Henry took over. “Ever since the competition… she’s been different. She quit dancing. She stopped smiling. She barely talks about anything other than work. She’s—” He struggled for the words. “She’s withering away, Meredith.”

Meredith inhaled deeply, already feeling the weight of their words.

Aden’s jaw tightened. “The divorce is finalized. Our father? A complete bastard. We’re done with him, and so is she. But even without him, she’s still not herself. We thought—” He glanced at Henry, then at Meredith. “We thought you should know.”

Silence stretched between them.

Meredith stared down at her hands, processing everything. “I—” she started but hesitated. “I never meant to—”

“To what?” Sophia pressed.

“To fall for her ,” Meredith admitted softly. She looked up, eyes conflicted. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. She was married. I told myself I wouldn’t act on it, but—”

Henry smiled, a little sadly. “She thought she was in love with you, you know.”

Meredith’s breath hitched.

“I don’t know if she still does,” Aden added, eyes sharp. “But I do know she was happy with you. And we’re asking you— begging you—to help her find that happiness again.”

Meredith swallowed hard, looking between them.

Then, Sophia smirked, leaning back. “You could just talk to her… or we could do something better.”

Meredith frowned. “Better?”

Ethan grinned. “A grand gesture.”

The twins perked up immediately.

Sophia’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “If Addison Montgomery refuses to return to dancing…” She paused for dramatic effect. “Then we bring the dance to her .”

The room fell silent for a moment.

Then, slowly, Meredith smiled.

“I like the way you think, whoever you are," Meredith chuckled. 

"Oh, pardon our manners," Henry realized his mistake. "Sophia Devine and Ethan Blackwood..." Before Henry could continue, Sophia spoke. 

"I'm Henry's girlfriend," She smiled cheekily at how red Henry got in the face.

"And I'm Aden's boyfriend," Ethan said, grabbing Aden's hand and dropping a kiss on the back of it, making Aden blush furiously. 

Chapter Text

Henry and Aden had always been protective of their mother, but this time, they weren’t just defending her—they were trying to save her. After weeks of watching Addison retreat further into herself, seeing the light that dancing had ignited in her eyes fade, they knew they had to do something drastic.

So they turned to Sophia and Ethan.

It was a different request this time, one that neither private investigator had anticipated.

“You want us to organize what ?” Sophia asked, raising an intrigued eyebrow.

“A grand gesture,” Henry confirmed, arms crossed. “Something big, something undeniable. We need to shake Mom out of this funk.”

Aden leaned forward. “She needs to feel again. And if there’s one person who can make that happen, it’s Meredith.”

Ethan smirked. “I like this plan already.”

Executing such a spectacle wasn’t going to be easy, but if anyone could pull it off, it was Henry, Aden, and their cunning partners.

First, they had to get the hospital staff on board. That part proved easier than expected. Addison Montgomery was well-respected at the hospital, and despite her sharp tongue and intimidating presence, many of her colleagues adored her. The promise of witnessing a dramatic and romantic event was enough to get them involved.

Even Chief Webber was in on it, amused by the theatrics but genuinely hoping this would bring Addison some happiness. Nurses, scrub techs, and a handful of doctors all agreed to clear out OR 2 at the right moment. Supplies were pushed aside, fridges rearranged, and even the surgical lights dimmed to set the mood.

Everything was going smoothly—except for one roadblock: Kara Blake.

Kara, the very same intern Derek had been sleeping with, had made it her mission to make Addison’s life a living hell. She openly mocked her in the break room, made snide remarks about her ‘washed-up career,’ and deliberately slowed her work in Addison’s surgeries. The worst part? She relished every second of it.

“You look tense, Dr. Montgomery ,” Kara cooed as she passed Addison in the hallway that day. “Rough night? Oh, right, you don’t have a husband anymore.”

Addison clenched her jaw, refusing to take the bait. She had long since mastered the art of ignoring immature interns.

But Kara wasn’t done. “Must be lonely, huh? Watching him move on with someone younger, fresher —” Addison walked away without seeing her sons.

“Blake!” snapped a voice from behind. Aden. He was furious. “Didn’t anyone teach you to shut your damn mouth?”

Kara scoffed, rolling her eyes, but before she could retort, Henry stepped in as well. “You’re embarrassing yourself,” he said coolly. “And don’t think we haven’t noticed how obsessed you are with Mom. It’s pathetic.”

Kara’s face burned red, but before she could spit another venomous remark, Sophia strolled up, casually sipping her coffee. “Wow,” she drawled. “I love the unhinged ex-mistress vibe you’re going for. Super classy.”

Even Ethan chuckled. “Let’s go, babe,” he told Aden. “She’s not worth the energy.”

Kara stood there fuming as the group walked off, her attempts to ruin Addison’s day foiled once again.

Addison Montgomery was exhausted. The hospital, once a place of pride and purpose, had become a battlefield. And at the center of it stood Kara Blake.

Kara was relentless. A sharp-tongued, dark-eyed brunette who made it her mission to make Addison’s life hell. Every day, it was something new—a snide remark, a passive-aggressive comment, a not-so-subtle jab. And the worst part? Addison knew why. She was Derek’s little toy, and now that he was gone, Kara blamed Addison for it.

“Guess you finally got what you wanted,” Kara sneered that afternoon as they prepped for surgery. “Drove your husband away. Not that he was faithful to begin with.”

Addison tightened her grip on the scrub brush, biting her tongue so hard she nearly tasted blood. 

“Go fetch Mrs. Richards’ lab results,” She wouldn’t give Kara the satisfaction of a response, neither would she have her in the OR. Instead, she finished scrubbing in and pushed into the OR.

But something was off .

The room was empty.

No patience. No staff. No monitors beeping. The surgical table was gone. The shelves were pushed back against the walls. Addison’s heart pounded in confusion.

And then, she saw her.

Meredith Grey stood in the center of the room, radiant in a flowing red dress that hugged her in all the right places. The fabric billowed slightly with her movements, a striking contrast against her pale skin and golden hair. She held a single red rose between her fingers, her eyes bright, her lips curved into a breathtaking smile.

Addison froze, arms still lifted from where she’d been waiting for a nurse to glove her hands. Her breath hitched as her gaze locked onto Meredith’s.

“What…” Addison’s voice failed her. She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. “What is this?”

Meredith stepped closer, the soft click of her heels echoing in the still room. “It’s a dance floor,” she murmured, voice as smooth as silk. “And I’m asking you to dance with me.”

“Dance to what?” Addison whispered, her chest tightening with emotion. “I—I don’t know the steps.”

Meredith shook her head, closing the remaining distance between them. She reached for Addison’s waist, gently placing her hands there. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver down Addison’s spine. “You know the steps, baby,” Meredith whispered. “You’ve been dancing with me for months. And I want you to be my partner for the rest of my life.”

The first notes of The Book of Love by Peter Gabriel filled the room, soft and tender. The melody wrapped around them, guiding them, urging them forward.

Addison swallowed the lump in her throat as Meredith began to sway, leading her effortlessly. Her body followed without thinking, muscle memory taking over. It was slow, intimate—each step a conversation, each movement a confession. Their breaths intermingled, their foreheads nearly touching. Addison could feel the rhythm of Meredith’s heart beneath her palm, steady and sure.

“You terrify me,” Addison admitted shakily, closing her eyes as they moved together. “You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle.”

Meredith exhaled softly, pressing her forehead against Addison’s. “Then let me hold your hand while you figure it out.”

A strangled sob escaped Addison’s throat, and before she could think, before she could stop herself, she reached up and framed Meredith’s face with trembling fingers. Their eyes met, blue locked onto blue.

And then, she kissed her.

Fierce, desperate, full of everything she had tried to bury. It was the kind of kiss that stole the air from her lungs, the kind that left her shaking, the kind that made her feel alive again.

Outside the OR, Aden, Henry, Ethan, and Sophia erupted into cheers. Sophia, unable to contain herself, grabbed Henry’s collar and pulled him in for a kiss, while Ethan and Aden openly made out, completely unbothered by their surroundings. But none of that compared to what was happening inside.

Inside, Addison and Meredith continued to dance. Wrapped up in each other, lost in the music, in the moment, in them .

For the first time in a long, long time…

Addison let herself believe in happiness again.

Chapter Text

Life had settled into something beautifully ordinary yet extraordinary for Meredith and Addison. After the grand gesture that had brought them together, they had built a life filled with love, passion, and the perfect balance of chaos and serenity.

They moved into a stunning home just outside the city, a place where they could breathe without the constant noise of Manhattan pressing in on them. The house was spacious yet warm, with large windows that bathed the rooms in golden sunlight. It was close enough for Addison to continue working at the hospital and for Meredith to open her own dance studio, a dream she had never even realized she wanted until Addison had given her the courage to chase it. It was also near enough for Henry and Aden to attend their respective universities and for little Gabriel to go to kindergarten.

Their days were filled with laughter, love, and an ever-growing rhythm of life that revolved around medicine, dance, and the unbreakable bond they shared. But the nights? The nights were for them .

Even as life carried on with its responsibilities and routines, Addison and Meredith never stopped dancing together. They entered competitions side by side, pushing each other beyond their limits, their chemistry undeniable on and off the dance floor. They grew as dancers, as partners, and as lovers, their trust in each other deepening with every twirl, every step, every breath shared between them.

Their biggest milestone came when they finally made it to Blackpool , the most prestigious dance competition in the world. The grand ballroom, the polished wood beneath their feet, the weight of years of passion and perseverance—it all culminated in a performance that left the audience breathless.

They moved as if they were one, their bodies fluid, synchronized, telling a story of love, resilience, and devotion. When the final note of the music played and they struck their last pose, chest to chest, foreheads touching, the silence that followed was deafening before the entire room erupted into applause.

They had won.

In every same-sex category they competed in, they had dominated. But the trophy wasn’t what mattered. It was the way Addison pulled Meredith into her arms afterward, burying her face into her neck, whispering, “We did it, baby.” It was the way Meredith cupped Addison’s face, pressing their lips together with the taste of victory and love mingling between them. It was the way their sons cheered for them from the crowd, Henry lifting Gabriel in the air while Aden clapped proudly beside Ethan and Sophia.

They had won, but more importantly—they had each other .

Back home, their life wasn’t just about them . Love had bloomed in all directions. Henry and Sophia were still inseparable, their relationship growing stronger each day. Sophia, ever the firecracker, kept Henry on his toes, but there was no mistaking the adoration in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

Aden, on the other hand, had fallen hard for Ethan. It had started with teasing, evolved into something more, and now, it was undeniable. They were two halves of the same chaotic whole, challenging each other in all the right ways. Ethan had the ability to disarm Aden’s walls without even trying, and Aden had finally found someone who could keep up with him.

Their house had become a home filled with love—of all kinds. Family dinners were loud, chaotic, filled with playful bickering, laughter, and the occasional food fight when Henry and Aden got too carried away. Gabriel was at the heart of it all, their little sunshine, adored by everyone in the household.

But even in the midst of all this happiness, Addison and Meredith always found their way back to each other .

It was late. The house was silent, their sons and their partners all fast asleep. The only light in the kitchen was the glow from the moon filtering through the large windows.

Meredith stood barefoot on the cool tile floor, clad in nothing but one of Addison’s old button-down shirts. She was pouring herself a glass of water when she felt warm arms wrap around her from behind.

Addison pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Meredith hummed, turning in her arms. “Neither could you.”

A small smirk played on Addison’s lips. “I was waiting for you.”

And then, as if on cue, the soft, melancholic notes of Shape of My Heart by Sting played from the small speaker on the counter. Meredith’s lips curled into a smile. “Really?”

Addison shrugged. “It felt appropriate.”

Meredith chuckled but didn’t protest as Addison took her hand, leading her into an impromptu slow dance right there in their kitchen. Their bodies moved instinctively, pressed close, their heartbeats syncing to the rhythm of the song.

They swayed, eyes locked, hands clasped tightly. There was no grand audience, no spotlights—just them, wrapped in their own little world. Meredith rested her head against Addison’s shoulder, exhaling softly. “I love you.”

Addison pressed a kiss to her hair. “I love you too, Mer.”

As the song played on, they danced in the dim glow of their kitchen, two women who had once been lost but had found their way—together.

And for them, the dance would never end.