AN: I know, I have no business starting something new, but I couldn't help myself. I hope you like it, in all its brevity. I'm already halfway through Chapter 1 so that will be up sometime soon.
This story will jump around in time, but for now it's set somewhere in the indefinite future.
One should not have to brave the rain at 1 AM for an ice cream run just because one lost a bet that was rigged from the get-go. If Mark had been any kind of gentleman he would have run the errand himself.
"Not it," he had said instead, tapping his index finger to his nose as soon as she had come back to bed and informed him they were out of mint chocolate chip.
First she wasted five minutes bargaining: "I'll take out the trash for a week if you go."
He had kissed her nose and patted her butt out of bed. "I don't believe you. Plus I went last time."
She grumbled the entire time it took her to dress, declaring he'd never see her naked again. It was an empty threat and he took it as such, returning to his book before looking at her again.
"I'll make you a deal: Name the six common causes of post-op fever and I'll go."
"Wind, water, wound, walking, wonder drugs…" she faltered and squinted at him. He shut his book and watched with patience. "Damn." She sighed. "What's the sixth?"
He grinned. "First admit defeat."
She rolled her eyes and heading toward the door. "I'm going, I'm going."
"Trick question. There're only five Ws; you got 'em all." He resumed reading . "You should really trust your instincts, Grey."
She stared at him from the doorway. Shirtless and propped up against down pillows, he wasn't reading a word. He was too busy smiling at his own cleverness.
"Hateful man," she muttered, turning away from the bedroom.
"Off you go."
So now, as she exited the convenience store, she made a solemn vow that he'd never get a bite of the ice cream. Lexie pulled the hood of her jacket over her already damp hair. Gripping the brown paper bag, she dashed to her car. On the way, she slid on a slick patch and wavered for a moment, arms extended to help her catch her balance. She let out a short breath of relief; no need to have her gray matter decorate the parking lot. She walked the rest of the way.
Cold, her fingers dropped the keys onto the wet gravel.
"Damn," she said, dropping on her haunches to pick them up. When she stood, her breath caught at the figure in front of her.
"Got any change?" The man wore gloves with the fingertips ripped off. A baseball cap under a worn jacket did little to protect his face from the pelting rain.
Still breathless from surprise, she swallowed and said, "I could buy you something to eat instead?" Her head nodded in the direction of the store behind them. The rain soaked the brown bag and she felt it grow heavier in her hand.
"I'm not hungry."
Maybe it was the memory of Thatcher drunk at her mother's funeral or every other drug addict who came through Seattle Grace, but something compelled Lexie to shake her head. Keeping her voice gentle, she said, "I'm sorry, I don't think I have any on me, but are you sure I can't get you a sandwich or something?"
The bag tore and the carton of ice cream fell to the pavement, disappearing under her car. "Damn," she said again, bending down for the second time.
The first blow stunned her and her knees hit the ground as she willed the ringing in her head to cease. The second one flattened her and gravel dug into her cheek as she stared ahead. Before the third blow afforded her darkness, she saw the carton rolling on its side under her car.
It would melt soon.
AN: Please review! It's my sustenance. Also, don't worry about Lexie, I'm going somewhere with this, I promise. =)