A/N: Starting a new story with so many open ones? It's my favorite. MerDers, this one's for you. We're starting from my favorite scenario: Meredith and Derek are together and progressing on the show's basic timeline, including adopting the world's cutest baby. (Can you tell I'm very enamored of Season 8 right now?) Mark and Addison stayed together after Derek moved away and Addison kept the baby. Everything else is up for grabs. As you'll see from this chapter, Meredith and Derek will be telling this story - maybe with some help from Mark and Addison; I haven't decided. This story will feature the extended Shepherd family. And lots and lots of MerDerZola; as this chapter will suggest, I'm kind of in love with the three of them together.

You should have some questions when you're done with this chapter and if you want to know the answers, then I'll keep writing. Deal?

Take Your Life and Light it Up

...

You think that true love is the only thing that can crush your heart, that will take your life and light it up or destroy it. Then ... you become a mother. (Meredith Grey)

"I just think it's strange." Derek glances at his wife, who is seated cross-legged on the carpet. "You don't think it's strange?"

Meredith reaches out to accept the cup of imaginary tea Zola has just poured for her, thanking her daughter effusively, and then takes a sip with gusto. "Mmm … caffeine."

Derek leans over to whisper so Zola won't hear him. "You do know that's not actually tea."

"I'm aware. That's how much I miss caffeine."

"Daddy," Zola pats his leg. "Your turn."

He holds out his teacup and she pours him a generous serving of air. "Careful," she warns him. "Hot."

Making it a point to blow on the imaginary tea first, he takes a small sip. "Delicious, Zo."

She beams, then turns away to do something that looks complicated with two little pink serving platters. Meredith watches her, then turns her attention back to Derek.

"Strange that your sister called?"

"Not strange that my sister called. Well, a little strange that my sister called."

"Strange that your mother called."

"Not strange that my mother called. Well, a little – Meredith, you know what I mean."

She nods. "Strange that your mother wants your ex-wife to perform surgery on her?"

"That's the one."

Zola turns around and Derek smiles at her, holding out his hand. "Did you make us something?"

"Not yet. Wait," Zola instructs, and turns back to her trays.

"Mer…"

"Hang on, she's doing the thing with the plates."

Derek turns to watch.

"Why is she cutest right before bed?"

"It's ingenious."

"But it's also a little evil."

"True."

"Meredith…"

"Right." She pauses. "… is it strange? You want a wife answer to that, or a surgeon answer?"

"Both," he decides.

"Not at all … and maybe a little." She pauses. "Reverse that order."

Maybe she's right, and it's not that strange. He's seen Addison and Mark since the divorce that was the smoothest of bumps in his road to happiness on the opposite side of the country. Addison's flown out to Seattle to perform one of her delicate fetal surgeries as a favor to Richard, as well as offering the occasional long-distance consult. His niece Clara even insisted on inviting them to their wedding – Addison was always her favorite – and they brought a friendly toddler who made it difficult to avoid them and harder to hold a grudge. When was that – three years ago now? Four? So they didn't exactly bond, but it's not like they haven't spoken.

He doesn't think she'll hang up on him, it's not that, but asking a favor – particularly when that favor means enmeshing with his family – feels weighty. Even when he knows Amy, with whom he hasn't spoken in years now, was actually living with them at one time. Okay, maybe especially the thing with Amy. It's all civil except the one-

"Derek?"

"Yeah."

"Patients have interesting requests sometimes." Meredith shrugs. "I just don't think it's that strange. And didn't you tell me once that she delivered some of your nieces and nephews?"

"That's true." He nods. "And she operated on my Aunt Vi about … ten years ago, now. Same procedure. My aunt was frightened, and it went well, so I guess my mother's remembering that."

"It makes sense." Meredith rests a hand on her arm. "Surgery is scary, even if you've given birth to two surgeons."

"Nancy would say three, there is a surgical component to OB/GYN."

"Well…. I guess I can fight that out with her."

"What do you mean?"

"When I see her. Derek, we're going to fly out there … right?"

"Do we have to?"

Meredith nods. "I think we have to. You're going to ask Addison to operate on your mother but you won't fly to New York for the surgery?"

"Addison is … local."

"But it's your mother."

"I love my mother. You know that. It's just complicated."

"Mothers are always complicated."

"Not Zola's," he counters and she leans forward to kiss him.

"Daddy – eat this, yum," Zola orders, apparently finally finished with her creation, and as soon as their lips separate, she hands him a portion of air.

"Ooh, thank you, Zo. Cookie?" Derek guesses, closing his hand around the imaginary treat.

"No."

He pretends to sniff the offering. "Hmm. Cake."

"No."

"Okay … I give up. What is it?"

"Carrots," Zola says firmly.

"Oh, she is definitely your daughter," Meredith laughs, then glances at the time. "Hey, Chef Zo … it's bedtime."

"No. Five minutes." Zola holds up an imperious little hand and Meredith laughs in spite of herself.

"Who does that remind you of?" she whispers to Derek.

He stands and then leans down to give Meredith a hand up.

"Hey, I'm not that big," she protests, although she lets him help her up. "Not yet."

She leans back against his chest when she's standing and he wraps his arms around her. "Tired?" he asks, sweeping some of her hair aside and bending to kiss the side of her neck.

"Depends." She turns her head to look up at him.

"On what?"

"On why you're asking." She grins. "I'm too tired to do the dishes and I am definitely too tired to put away all two hundred pieces of the tea set but I might not be too tired for…"

"What if I'm not in the mood?"

"That would never happen."

"It might happen after I make this call."

Meredith shakes her head. "But medically speaking…she's okay. Right?"

"Right. Well," he pauses, "medically speaking, she does need the surgery, but she's a conservative 1B. Really more like 1A. I've seen her records. But she's having surgery."

"She's having surgery," Meredith agrees, "and we should be there."

"We should be there," he echoes, hoping it will feel like the right thing if he just says it out loud.

"Okay." Meredith turns around in his arms. "So I'll put Zola to bed, and you make that call."

Derek squats down to urge Zola to bed and then glances up at Meredith. "I love my mother," he says that.

"Derek, I know that." Her tone is gentle, understanding.

"But it's not just her, you know? It's not just my mother. It's never just one person with my family. They … descend, like locusts." He makes his hands into flying things and uses them to tickle Zola, who shrieks with laughter.

Scooping her up, he stands and grins at Meredith. "This little girl seems awake. Maybe I should wait to make that call."

"Nice try." Meredith holds out her arms. "Come on, Zo, Mommy's going to read you two princess stories with questionable gender roles."

"Three," Zola challenges.

"Good girl, never accept a first offer," Derek nods, and Meredith lifts her out of Derek's arms and onto her hip.

"Be careful," he admonishes, resting a hand on her back.

"Derek, I'm pregnant, not injured."

He kisses Zola's soft cheek. "Good night, sweetie." He shifts his gaze. "Mer…"

"Go call," she says firmly. "And good luck. And be nice."

"I'm always nice," he calls after her.

...

He procrastinates by washing the dishes, and not hurrying either, but once the sink is empty he figures it's now or never. She never changed her cell number, as far as he can tell, and once 917 became a commodity he assumed she never would. It takes four rings for her to answer.

"Derek?"

Admittedly, he hasn't changed his cell either. She sounds like he's catching her in the middle of something. Maybe he should have emailed first.

"Addison. Hi. Can you … talk for a second?"

Static interrupts whatever she says next.

"Addison – are you there?" No answer. "Addison?"

"I'm here."

"Do you –"

"I can talk," she says, sounding somewhat garbled. "Sorry, I'm-" But whatever she wanted to say is cut off when more static interferes.

"This connection is terrible. Where are you, Antarctica?"

He doesn't hear anything. "Addison?"

"Sorry, … here. … not great." He only hears every other word or so, but assumes she's talking about their bad connection. He could hang up, but … the static starts to clear, so he goes on.

"It's actually about my mother. She's okay," he says quickly, "they caught it very early, but my mother's scheduled for surgery at Memorial-St. Catherine's next week-"

"How did you know?"

Derek's confused at her question, wondering if maybe he misheard it.

"How did I know?" He repeats. She doesn't correct him. "Uh … Liz called me."

The static is suddenly much lessened and he can hear confusion in her voice when she responds.

"Liz called you? Liz knows?"

"Addison … I don't understand. Of course Liz knows that my mother needs surgery, yes. And she knows my mother asked for you, but Liz hasn't talked to you so she thought I should call. I'm sorry, I should have emailed first."

Silence.

"Addison?"

"Sorry. I … misunderstood, before." She pauses. "What did you say?"

Officially confused now, he repeats his request. "I know it's … a little unorthodox, but if you still have privileges at MSC, I know it would mean a lot to her."

"Oh." She pauses. "I've … sort of scaled back."

He wasn't expecting that, Addison was never really the scaling-back type. Then again, he never knew her with a child. "Does that mean that you…"

"I don't know. I would need to – sorry, can you hold on a second?"

"Sure."

Silence, minimal static, and the seconds tick by. Absently he lowers to his knees on the floor and starts organizing Zola's tea set.

"Derek, you still there?"

"I'm still here."

"It's not emergent, right?"

"No, it's not. She's on the schedule for next week. I didn't mean to spring it on you." He examines the pink-printed pattern on the sugar bowl.

"No, that's not it, just –" a loud sound interrupts them. "I have to go, Derek, I'm sorry," and then he's just listening to dead air.

...

"That was fast," Meredith looks up when she sees him in the doorway, propped on the fluffy little pink bed with a sleepy – but awake – Zola nestled against her. "We're only one princess in."

"Yeah."

He leans against the doorframe and can't help smiling, never tiring of the sight of the two of them together. His eyes skate down Meredith's narrow frame, resting on the slight – but noticeable – swell of her belly.

The three of them, that's what he'll be looking at, soon.

"So? How did it go?"

Derek considers the question. The static, the silence, Addison's confusing answers, and her abrupt farewell, and tries to figure out how to answer.

"It was … strange," he says.