Disclaimer: They're not mine, I'm just playing with them.
Thank you again to everyone who reviewed my other stories, it really brightens my day to get reviews, and I loved reading them! It definitely is a huge help to me to know that the characters are staying similar to how they're portrayed on the show. Speaking of, this Thursday's episode was my favorite so far! It was funny at the right parts, and sad at the right parts (that whole Rosie scene was heartbreaking), and now I think I am absolutely going to find some time to watch the first three seasons that I've missed out on. Moving on...
This is another Mark/Lexie fic (shocker, I know). I'm finding it kind of a big tease, the few episodes they had together, and now they're not ever in the same scene, but I can be patient and I have my little imaginings in the meantime. This is meant to take place after 5x07 "Rise Up". Hope you enjoy! (And, as always, reviews are appreciated greatly).
Mark had heard there were dead bodies in the basement. Naturally, he'd wanted to see for himself. What he'd found instead was some sort of clandestine meeting of what seemed to be every intern in the hospital, taking turns sticking needles into each other's waiting arms (and for a crazy moment there he'd been this close to asking if they were shooting up heroin). There haven't been many times in Mark Sloan's life where he'd been rendered truly speechless, but to this he had nothing to say.
She was the first to notice his entrance (of course). She looked up from some scruffy headed intern finishing taping the needle to her skin, her mouth forming this perfect surprised sort of "oh", and her eyes widened in shock. "Dr. Sloan."
"Grey" he smirked.
Lexie closed her eyes, cringing, because whatever he was going to do next would be loud and imposing and dramatic, in true Mark Sloan fashion. He didn't disappoint.
"Interns, scatter!" Mark clapped his hands in a commanding sort of manner, at least the sound echoed pretty impressively around the room, and immediately there was a flurry of motion. Tourniquets and empty hypodermic needles were scooped up, pagers were hastily clipped back to belts, and a stampede of interns rushed towards the door, loud and rowdy and oblivious (pretty much everything Mark hated about interns in the first place).
"Whoa, whoa." He caught Lexie's arm as she passed, the one free of a practice IV still taped to her skin. "Not you, Grey. Sit back down." She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath (which Mark thought was very unlike her, the muttering, not the eye-rolling, so it intrigued him just a little bit) but moved compliantly to take her previous seat after Mark released her arm. Mark however went straight to the basement doors, poking his head out into the hallway to ensure the interns had truly fled (as expected) and no one else was around. Satisfied, he closed the doors behind him, turning only to be met with Lexie's expectant look (and how was it he had total command over the other interns but she didn't even bat an eyelash?). "What?"
"Are you making sure no one's coming to catch you taking advantage of a poor, helpless intern?" she quipped, almost curiously, and there was a playful glint in her eyes not unfamiliar to Mark. He had to hand it to her, though; Lexie had come a long way from the pathetically obedient intern who'd blushed behind her surgical mask even as she'd told him to 'shut up'.
Still, two can play that game. His eyes narrowed, giving him that intense, smoldering kind of look (the meaning was not lost on Lexie) and countered her question with one of his own: "Are you saying you'd let me take advantage of you?"
Lexie couldn't help the way his voice made her skin tingle.
She cocked her head to the side, as if studying him up and down (she'd seen him do it to too many nurses to not know how it was done), before answering. "Maybe…" she let the word drag, hang in the air, then shook her head, trying to keep her smile hidden. "Although rumor has is you're hot for Dr. Yang now, and she'd kill me if she found out I'd deflowered you first."
By now Lexie was just trying not to laugh, her grin already apparent to Mark, who had an almost exasperated expression on his face. "Actually," she continues, "I could page her down here for you and you two could have some…alone time. In fact, I'll just go now, in case you want so privacy to, I don't know, light some candles, put on a Marvin Gaye CD…" She continued babbling as she sprang out of her seat, trying to edge past Mark towards the doors. Predictably, he caught her arm again, effectively preventing her escape.
"Funny, Grey, really. You should take this act on the road" he told her, navigating her back to her seat. He sat across from her, releasing her arm for the second time that night, and rested his hands instead on his knees expectantly (Lexie couldn't help but to watch the way this made his shoulders rise, broaden, under the sleeves of his scrubs, and just for the smallest of seconds she wondered what it would be like, her hands scrambling to find purchase on them). "What do you say we lose some of the accessories first?" He nodded towards the empty IV needle in her arm.
"Oh yeah." Lexie had forgotten about that. "I probably shouldn't have been moving around, should I?"
"Definitely not" Mark agreed, reaching over to position her arm on the small surgical tray in front of them. "So how about you let me take it out?" His fingers were already at work, carefully peeling the adhesive tape keeping the needle secure away from her skin. Lexie had to suppress a shiver with his fingers dancing over her skin like that, and unconsciously scooted her chair a little closer to him. If Mark noticed, he didn't let on, and if Lexie had to she would have sworn that he, too, leaned in just the tiniest bit closer.
Then she remembered why she was in this mess in the first place; how inserting IV lines into her fellow interns had become necessary because Christina wouldn't teach her, and the residents stole her dead bodies so that wasn't an option, either (and she'd had to put up with some majorly creepy stares to get a hold of those cadavers, thanks very much, because there's only so many times a girl wants to hear "You're pretty" followed by heavy, awkward breathing). So she sighed, a little morosely, and shrugged at him. "Why? The big fancy doctor has to do it because us lowly interns can't do anything, right?"
Lexie couldn't have described the look he gave her then. She tried to dissect it and would later come to the conclusion it was equal parts annoyance, amusement, and maybe…sympathy? Only the first two were really characteristic of Mark Sloan however, so she really didn't know what to think.
"No" he finally answered. "You let me take it out because you're lucky the needle hasn't hit anything in there with you moving around, and if you get a massive bruise tomorrow that's probably the best outcome this scenario has. You're going to let me do it because that gives you time to sit there and think about how stupid it was to all converge in some creepy basement and stick needles into each other's arms . What is that anyway, some sort of medical 'Fight Club'? An underground intern practice arena?" He scoffed a little at his own joke. "The first rule of 'IV Club' is- "
"-You don't talk about 'IV Club'" she cut him off, rolling her eyes again at the nickname he gave it. "I know." It was at this point Lexie realized Mark's hand was still curled around her arm, and she tried gently to tug it out of his grasp. He just kept right on teasing, however.
"You know that movie ends with the city getting blown up, right?"
"Yeah, I know." Lexie couldn't think of anything else to say, and Mark took her silence as permission to continue. By the time she noticed he'd completely removed the tape on her arm, holding the IV in place with his thumb, preparing to slide the needle out of her arm. "You don't need to do this you know, I can get it. You don't have to…"
He looked at her with that weird expression again. "I want to, Grey. What's so awful about that?"
There was an understanding reached in that basement then, and although neither of them acknowledged it they were each suddenly more aware of how little space there really was between them.
"You ready?" he asked. "This might not come out too easily. Which bozo stuck this in you anyway?"
Lexie only shrugged a shoulder, eyes directed towards the floor.
"Alright, keep your secrets. Just, if I'm dying, don't let the guy near me with any sort of medical instrument, we clear?" He was rewarded with a small smile (he was going to call it intended for him even if she still wasn't meeting his gaze) and decided not to push. "Grab me that gauze, this is probably going to bleed a little. Ready?"
Lexie reached with her free hand for a clean square of gauze, ready to hand it to him when asked. "Yeah, go ahead."
As carefully as he could Mark slid the line out of her arm, his other hand still resting over the puncture site, thumb applying a steady pressure. "I'll take the gauze now, Grey."
She offered it to him, flinching a little as the last of the IV was pulled from her arm. "Ow, that's definitely going to bruise."
Mark's hand still hadn't left her arm, his fingers now absentmindedly tracing light patterns over her skin while somehow managing to keep a firm grip on the gauze pad. Lexie found herself resting her chin in her other palm, studying Mark in a way that made him both pleased and uneasy.
"What?" he asked, and though he meant it to sound gruff, it came out more a husky timbre that seemed to affect Lexie.
She bit her bottom lip, hesitating. "You're not really interesting in Dr. Yang, are you?"
He could have laughed, but (surprisingly) didn't. "Derek just wanted me to get her out of his hair. I somehow thought it would be…"
"Less humiliating?" she offered, almost innocently (but he'd been around her enough to know that the big-doe eyes she was sending his way were masking a mischievous glint).
"…easier. I was going to say easier." The corner of his mouth curved up in a smooth grin. "You're not still pining for O'Malley, are you?"
"I made him reconciliatory macaroni and cheese" she said wisely, as if that explained everything. And in a twisted sort of way, it did. The gauze lay forgotten now on the tray between them, Mark not needing an excuse to ghost his fingers over her arm. "Do you remember that night at Joe's?"
"Mm hmm" he answered, paying more attention to bringing her palm up to his lips and placing a soft kiss on it. "The periodic table." She could feel him forming the words, his breath hot against her skin, and Lexie felt her heart hammer in her chest. Maybe it was a good thing he'd made sure no one else was around.
"Were you…" she started, a little timid to continue her question (but more distracted by Mark's trail of lingering kisses up the back of her arm, bunching up her lab coat to get to the skin underneath). "Were you going to kiss me?"
He stopped then, looking her square in the eye. "If you still weren't all gooey-eyed over O'Malley?" She nodded, and so he finished (decisive, direct). "Yes."
"Oh." And then, in a move bolder than she'd ever though herself capable of, she leaned in, resting both hands on his thighs, ready to tell him something she herself hadn't realized until just now. "I think I would have let you."
The surgical tray was overturned; it clattered to the floor as he reached for her, and Lexie wasn't surprised to find that he was every bit as good a kisser as she'd heard.