Author Devylish
Title Teddy Bear In The Crossroad
Fandom Grey's Anatomy
Pair Mark and Callie
Rating PG13
Words 1941
Warning/Spoiler/Summary None. None. Prompt 35 'teddy bear' from the Mark_n_Callie prompt table 1
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.


"What the hell is this?" Yang picked up the soft, dark brown, fuzzy stuffed animal and looked over her shoulder at Callie.

Callie was lost in her closet, digging for an 'I'm emancipated and free from the grasp of Arizona and I'm gonna party' outfit. "What's what?"

Yang turned around and plopping down on the mattress held up the teddy bear for review.

Callie peered out of the closet and froze. Damn.

"Umm, it's nothing."

Yang didn't miss the faint flush that slid over Callie's face. "Mmmm hmmm... 'nothing'." She tossed the bear into the air and caught it, and waited for Callie to continue, as she knew she would.

…...

"Really, it's nothing." Callie hid back in the closet, holding the pair of jeans she'd selected in one hand.

…...

"It's just... Mark gave it to me."

She could feel Cristina peering at her.

"When he found out... about me, and Arizona... he..." Callie stepped out of the closet, jeans and a top in her hands and her eyes on the floor. "He said it was for my child. The baby he knows I'm going to have... some day." When Callie finally dared to drag her eyes up from the floor she found Yang staring at her. "What?"

"Are you kidding me? 'What?'"

"It... he... he's my best friend... he was being nice."

Yang carefully lowered the bear back on to its place on the bed before hopping up. "Nice my ass."

Grabbing the clothes out of Callie's hand she grabbed her room mate's wrist. "C'mon."

"Wait, what... where are we going?"

Yang, slender, wiry, stronger than she looked, Yang, dragged Callie out of her bedroom, down the hall to the apartment door. Swinging it open she headed across the hall, dragging a confused flustered Callie with her.

When Yang stopped at Mark's door and knocked, Callie strained to get away from her.

"What are you doing?"

Something that should have been done years ago."

"Yang." Callie warned and tried jerking away from her roommate's iron grip again.

"Casa de Sloan," Mark opened the door jovially before pausing and lifting a brow at the sight of a struggling Callie and Yang standing in the hall. "if you take off a few more items of clothes, I could totally get in to this."

Callie and Cristina stopped wriggling and turned to face Mark. Cristina was the first to recover. Shoving Callie in Mark's direction, causing him, to literally catch her, Cristina put her hand on the doorknob.

"Okay, this is it. The two of you are staying in here until you admit you love each other."

"Yang!" Callie pushed away from Mark.

"No! No this is it...! I'm tired of this shit. You and Sloan, you guys are fucking meant to be with one another, but you're both just too scared, or too stupid, or too... too..." she turned to Callie, "name one thing you wouldn't do to help him." She rounded on Mark, "and you... you ass, how many times have you given her up, or let her go because you thought it was what she wanted... what she needed?"

"Where the hell did all of this come from?" Mark looked from Callie to Yang.

Callie ducked her head, "The teddy bear."

Mark flushed faintly.

"Uhm yeah, the teddy bear." Yang mocked. "The two of you are so in love you make me want to puke, and you're not getting out of this apartment until you admit it; to one another, and then to me." Yang slammed the door shut and spinning her back to the opening sat on the floor in the hall – to wait.

"Yang!" Callie called out and moved to the door.

Mark grabbed her wrist, sending small sparks of electricity over her skin. "Maybe you should let her cool off. She seems... dangerous."

Callie turned around, embarrassment, nervousness, and humor edging over her visage. She worked with the humor. "Scared of Yang?"

"And not afraid to admit it." Mark tugged at her arm and pulled her into the living room. "Wine?"

She countered, "Scotch?"

He grinned. "That's why I love...," his voice petered off at the end of his sentence. Clearing his throat, he shifted gears. "On the rocks?"

She nodded yes.

A minute later found Mark handing her a glass of potent amber liquid and sitting down next to her on the couch.

They sat in silence. And it was one of those uncomfortable silences. Where things were being said... being thought...; things that were dangerous to the status quo.

A little liquid courage. "I never really thanked you. For the bear I mean. And what you said. I...thank you."

He shrugged the thank you off. "I was just telling the truth. I know I'm not known for it, but... I do speak it every once and a while."

Callie looked him in the eyes. "Yeah, well, I needed to hear it. At that moment. It's nice to know someone has faith in me." She grinned, "or at least, faith in my reproductive abilities."

He let his eyes drop to her chest. "Baby, I have faith in all of you."

She laughed and settled back on the couch, her feet curled up next to her. Swirling the liquor around in her glass she missed the way Mark's eyes darkened as he watched her.

A thought passed through his brain, a thought he'd had before, several times before; Callie Torres was perfect. Curled up on his couch. Little to no make-up on..., perfect. Oh, he'd seen thinner women, taller women, shorter women, blonder women, but... Torres... Torres...? She was perfect. Even when she wasn't trying to be perfect.

He wondered how many times he'd had this thought.

And he wondered why the thought... the feeling kept getting stronger and stronger.

Why it felt like it was eating at him. Now.

"So how'd your thing with that oncology nurse go?" Callie asked.

And then it sort of hit him.

The thought, the feeling..., the realization that Calliope Torres was perfect kept coming to him because it was true. Because it was true for him.

And then he understood the 'why now'; why it was suddenly right there in his gut – feeding on him.

It was because they were at another crossroad. Another moment when she was free. And he was free. And there was nothing standing in their way. Nothing to stop them. Nothing to keep them from being... from being...

"Mark?" Callie peered at him. "Was she that good, or...mmmmpfh!"

Mark had moved without thinking... launching himself at Callie's curled up frame. Trapping her between his arms, pressing his body against hers, his mouth capturing hers.

Thirty seconds later and Callie and he had changed positions, he was on his back on the sofa, and Callie was lying between his legs on top of him. Her drink lay in a puddle on the floor, her hands were against his chest. And Mark's hands were lost in Callie's dark wealth of hair... her perfect hair.

"Mark. Mark?" Her lips peppered his cheek, his jaw, but her ever present reticence... ever present questions of 'why me'? And 'is this real'? made her speak.

"Shhhhshhhh." he responded and let his hands trip down to the back of her t-shirt, tugging it upwards.

"Marrrrkkkkk?"

"No more questions."

"I haven't ask-"

"Yeah, but you're thinking them. Stop thinking Callie. Just... for once, lets... lets... just be us."

She lifted her frame. "But..."

"Shhh."

"No Mark, that's all we do... we get together... we... we... we do this," she waved her hands at her disheveled clothes, "and then we come to our senses. So," she shifted so that she was kneeling between his legs, "let's just stop this now. Realize this isn't 'us' … now. Come to our senses now."

Mark sat up, chasing after perfection. "Callie?"

"You know I'm right, you know -"

HE grabbed her arms and pulled her towards him, his mouth crashing into hers, pushing her into silence.

When he pulled away, Callie's hands were digging into his shoulders, and her eyes were closed. And she was quiet.

He studied her face for half a second, finding more, continued, perfection. His hand under her chin, his thumb moving across her cheek, he waited for her to open her eyes. But before she could mount her defenses again, he started to speak. "Cal, we've been doing this all wrong. You've assumed that what we've done, what we've been doing, is all there is to us. And I... Jesus, I've been an idiot. A frightened idiot. I knew there was more... that maybe there could be more."

"Mo-?"

He kissed her again.

And this time when they parted, they were both senseless...lost in the taste of one another. A taste and presence neither had felt in too long.

"Go all the way with me Callie." His voice was soft..., hopeful. And Mark didn't do hopeful often. Hope was vulnerability; and vulnerability only led to pain.

But he was taking a chance. Finally. Taking a chance and putting it out there. All of it. For Callie.

She mumbled a fuzzy, "We've gone all the way before. Many times before..." she leaned forward and nibbled at his jaw again. "Many, many times before."

Mark lifted her head, stopping her pleasurable assault, and forced her to look at him. "All the way. Dating. Moving in together. Engagement. Mortgage. Marriage. Kids. All the way." Her eyes were wide and he kissed the tip of her nose. "That kind of all the way."

"Mark. We can't do it. You and I. We're -"

"Perfect. You and I? We're perfect. Together. We just need to give it a chance."

"What makes you think we're 'perfect'? Both of us are so fucked up... Mark... we're the opposite of perfect."

"Maybe alone. But together?"

She stared into his eyes. "Why now? Why this time?"

"We're both free... both able to be with the other without hurting someone else."

"Just because neither one of us has a girlfriend..."

"Name one thing you wouldn't do to help me? And how many times have I given you up or let you go because I thought it was what you wanted... what you needed? Callie? Baby, I think what we want and need is: one another."

Callie smoothed her hands along Mark's shoulders, a smile building on her lips, "You must be serious about this, you just quoted Yang."

Mark gave a half smile, "I'll deny it if you ever tell her."

"You gave me a teddy bear. She already thinks you're soft."

Mark hugged Callie closer, laying back down with her in his arms. "Soft? Oh, I think I can disprove that theory."

After an hour of sitting on the hallway floor, straining her ears to hear through the thick apartment doors, Cristina Yang decided to see exactly how her impromptu plan was working out. Standing up, she stretched and carefully, quietly opened Sloan's apartment door.

What she saw, sprawled all over his couch, was really more than she'd ever wanted to see.

But that being said, it was exactly, kinda, what she had been hoping to see.