TITLE Those Other Dreams
FANDOM Grey's Anatomy
WARNINGS/SPOILERS/SUMMARY Language. none. Part three of my entry for the Mark_Callie LJ Blind Number Challenge. Items chosen: Mrs. Torres, Lab coat, Denver.
DISCLAIMER Disclaimer All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show Grey's Anatomy. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of devylish. devylish is in no way associated with the TV show Grey's Anatomy and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.
They'd seen each other every day for the past week. They'd meet for lunch or dinner or both. And they'd laugh, they'd talk, they'd even kiss.
But that was it. Sloan would pull away from her just when she thought they were…well… about to get really friendly.
And it was frustrating the hell out of her.
She admitted it, she was confused. He seemed to want her. Hell, she'd felt the evidence of his desire for her. But he wasn't following through.
And then there was the whole… dating thing. At this point, she couldn't identify what they were doing as anything less than dating.
What she didn't understand, what she didn't get was 'why'.
They didn't do dates. They never had. They'd eaten together in the past. Had coffee and drinks together. But they were not 'daters'. They were bed buddies. Friends with benefits. This was what she knew. What she was comfortable with. What she wanted… what she thought he wanted. And now he was fucking with her mind.
Well enough was enough.
Callie was sitting in the third floor doctor's lounge, tucked in a rarely used, secluded corner, her eyes focused on her laptop while her ears were peeled on the conversation going on around her. Mark and Derek had come in about twenty minutes ago, the two of them drinking coffee and laughing about some guy thing.
She tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for them to finish what they were talking about. If Mark tried to leave first, she was going to just have to request to speak to him in private. Derek was a good enough guy to leave the room if he thought she had something important to say to Sloan.
Fortunately she didn't have to make any request as Derek's pager went off and he scampered out of the lounge.
Moving quickly, Callie headed to the door and locked it.
Mark looked up from his files when he heard the door lock, and leaned back in his chair. "Callie? What's up?"
Kicking off her tennis shoes, she reached under her lab coat, undid her scrub pants and let them drop to the floor. Stepping out of the pants, she moved closer to her goal: namely Mark.
Sitting up straight, he opened his mouth to… well he didn't know what he was opening his mouth to do, but he didn't get a chance to do much of anything other than let his jaw drop. Callie had fingered the buttons of her coat open revealing the white lace underwear he'd given her half-jokingly/half-seriously.
They looked damn serious at this point and time.
"I take it you like what you see?" She was standing right in front of him, white thigh highs, white lace panties, white underwire demi-bra, with her lab coat covering meager parts of her frame.
His cock having shifted from flaccid to rigid in a matter of seconds, Mark shifted slightly in his chair, an inadequate "uh huh" slipped out of his mouth.
"Good. Cuz I want you to be happy Mark." She straddled his slightly parted legs, resting her weight on his hips and thighs. "Really really happy."
Slow! Remember the plan Sloan. Win her over, then… then…. What the fuck was the rest of the plan? His hands, of their own accord had settled on Callie's hips; his fingers digging into the silky flesh and into the way too obtrusive scraps of lace.
"Markie?" Her voice was soft and her lips were against his ear as she leaned forward, flattening her curves against the plane of his body.
She laughed quietly in his ear. "I see I haven't completely lost my touch."
He turned his head in towards her, breathing her skin. He loved her scent. He loved the feel of her – warm and supple against him. He loved --…. The purpose of the plan -- the distance he'd imposed, the dating – rushed back to him. His grip on her hips tightened and he forced himself to arch his head away from her questing lips.
"Callie, baby, we can't… we can't do this."
She groaned before stiffening with rejection; pulling back from him, she demanded, "Why the fuck not?! What the fuck kind of game are you playing, Sloan?! Cuz, I don't get it, I mean…" she scrapped her nails against the front of his tented scrubs, "You're sending mixed messages here. What are you saying? You want 'it', you just don't want 'it' with me?!"
He grunted as her fingers passed over his length. The Plan, which hadn't been all that strong of a plan to begin with, was in a precarious position… it was a stroke away from complete failure. He gathered his wits to him at the same time that he reached for Callie's wrists and pulled them towards his chest.
"I'm sending one message Callie. Just one. I want you."
She leaned forward in triumph.
"…but baby, I want all of you."
Callie paused, confusion lacing her features. She glanced down at her half naked body, resting atop his frame. What more can I…
"Cal," he lifted his free hand to her chin, "I want you in my bed – our bed – every night. I want to come home to you, and for you to come home to me. I… I want own a dog and a cat with you." He rubbed his nose against hers. "I want to fight with you, and make up with you. I want to have a thousand little Callie lookalikes with you." He finally paused for a breath and he could feel her pulling away from him, trying to pull her wrists out of his grip.
"Mark let me go. Mark…!"
"Why? Are you going to run away?"
Suddenly she stopped struggling and curved into him burying her head against his shoulder. "We'd never work Mark; can't you see that? You're asking for the impossible. I… I'm crazy and possessive and, and… fragile. Mark, I'm so… if we didn't work, I wouldn't… it wouldn't be like it was with Erica or George, I wouldn't… I wouldn't have you to turn to. My best friend would be gone."
"Baby I'm not going anywhere."
"You say that now." Her voice was muffled against his body. "But what about when I drive you away. I drive everyone away." She lifted her head and glanced at him with a bitter smile. "It's my gift."
"Oh Callie, honey, you've got lots of gifts, pushing people away isn't one of them."
She dropped her head back to his shoulder. "Oh I can push people away… I'm thinking of teaching a course in it. Drive Lovers Away – 101.
"You've never driven me away. I'm still here. Four years and counting."
"Pfft, you've been gone for at least a year."
He released her wrists, letting them lay trapped between their bodies, and he let his hands return to her hips and ass, resting them on her curves. "You didn't push me away Callie, I walked away… because I was afraid. I was afraid of getting hurt. I was dumb, and stupid and blind, but, I came back. And I'm not afraid anymore. You can hurt me all you want," he gave a smile that she didn't see, "I'm not going anywhere."
She slid her arms from between their bodies, curling them up around his broad shoulders. She lifted her head to his, her lips brushing against his ear. "You could break me Mark." Her voice was so hushed, so defenseless. "Once I had you, I wouldn't survive the loss of you."
He could feel his heart stop beating. She did love him. "The only way you're getting rid of me Torres is through the 'til death do us part' clause. And even then, I promise, I'll come back to haunt you."
She gave a muted, watery giggle.
And he smiled, hugging her closer.
"There will not be a thousand little Torres by the way. You might be able to talk me into two." He grinned and shifted beneath her, letting the stubble of his cheek brush her skin. Sighing against him, Callie added, "okay, four. We can aim for four."
"I'm still pissed at him." Callie puffed out angrily, her foot tapping against the floorboard. "How did you talk me into coming here again?"
"I think it was mind blowing orgasm number four. We're going in Callie." He climbed out of the rental car and walked around to Callie's door. When he opened it she glared up at him for a second, apparently weighing the pros and cons of fighting him, before finally giving in when she read the determined look in his eye.
She sighed and accepted his hand, "I'm not talking to him."
Mark shut the car door and wrapped an arm around Callie's waist, guiding her – protecting her – as they headed to the front door of Esteban and Anastacia Torres' home.
As the front door opened, Mark felt Callie's hand nervously tightening around his.
Esteban Torres stood at the door of his house, his eyes trained/focused/centered on his daughter. They stared at one another silently for a few seconds; Callie's grip on Mark's hand not loosening until Esteban, his eyes watering a bit, broke the silence. "Lo siento. Yo estaba equivocado. Usted siempre será mi niña, y te amo. ¿Me perdonas?"
Callie released Mark and flew at her father, encircling him in a hug that screamed love and forgiveness.
When Callie finally released her father, her mother was also at the door, a happy, knowing smile directed over her husband's shoulder at Mark.
"Daddy, this is Dr. Mark Sloan, mi novio." She glanced at her mother – a secretive smile on her face -- she'd show mama the ring after Mark had officially asked daddy for his permission..