I Was Next To You And You Were Right There Next to Me 1/1
I Was Next to You and You Were Right There Next to Me 1/1
Title: I Was Next to You and You Were Right There Next to Me
(Or when Mark looked at Callie’s boobs and she didn’t notice)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mark/Callie, Mark/Lexie, Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: All characters, events, settings and situations mentioned in this work are sole property of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, in constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be defamatory or factual in anyway.
Summary: Callie’s sick. Mark brings her soup, and jealousy ensues.
Author’s Notes: This is ESPECIALLY dedicated to Megan Jean. I really, really think you will find this quite amusing J Enjoy, jellybean. Also, title is from the song ‘I Want You To’, bye Weezer. It was written totally last minute, so it’s not high quality, trust me. But hopefully, it’s entertaining enough.
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The smell of something home-made clouded Mark’s nostrils as he entered his kitchen, slipping a plain white tee-shirt over his head. “Smells good--” He announced.
“Oh, good you’re up. I was going to leave you a note.” Lexie replied as she hurriedly grabbed her purse off the counter and stepped around it to grab her keys, “I made some soup for Callie and I didn’t get a chance to take it to her. You’re off today, so can you take it over, please?”
“Torres is home?” He asked, leaning over to kiss Lexie goodbye before she headed for the door,
“Yeah, she’s sick, I think, and I’m being the good girlfriend and making soup for your best friend, so--” She smiled proudly as she opened the door, “--go over there and keep her company, it’ll keep you busy. Bye!”
The door closed and Mark moved leisurely around his kitchen, quickly finding a container. A pink container Lexie recently brought over and left there. He poured some of the just made chicken soup into a bowl instead and turned towards the door. He walked the few steps across the hall and knocked a couple of times before pushing the door open.
He winced as he shut the door behind him, “Whoa, Torres, what happened to you?”
A miserable looking Callie looked up from where she sat, huddled up under a blanket, hair up in a pony tail, tissue scattered all over, “Thanks. Jerk.”
“Honey, drink your tea--” Arizona called as she entered the living room in equal hurry to Lexie’s earlier exit. She smiled upon seeing Mark, “--oh good, you can keep her company.” She grabbed her purse in a similar manner as Lexie’s before kissing the top of Callie’s head and pointing sternly at the cup sat on the coffee table, “--tea, Calliope.” She spotted the bowl in his hands and smiled wider as she left, “Soup, how sweet! Tea, Calliope!”
“You brought me soup?” Callie mumbled groggily from the couch, stretching her neck to try and get a peek.
“Yeah.” He exhaled, grabbing a spoon from a nearby drawer, then heading towards the living room, “Lexie made it for you.”
“Awe…” She replied sarcastically before blowing her nose.
“Shut up, Sneezy.” He chuckled as she scrunched her nose at him.
He sat beside her, handed her the soup and watched as she took a spoonful and hummed in appreciation, “Good?”
“Oh my god…” She moaned.
She blanket she was wrapped in fell off her shoulder, to reveal a bright yellow tank top. A bright yellow tank top he knew all too well. She groaned and complained about it being hot and pushed the blanket off her torso completely. And that’s when it happened. His eyes strayed and landed on a cleavage. Cleavage he had not set eyes on in a long time, and he wondered why.
He swallowed audibly and grabbed the remote off her lap, clearing his throat as he changed the channel.
“I was watching that!” She protested through a mouthful of chicken.
“Eat your soup.” His eyes strayed again and he became irritated with himself. He reached over and pulled the blanket over her shoulders again, “Cover up, you’re sick.”
She was oblivious to his growing discomfort as he flipped channels, not really paying attention to the screen, until she slapped his shoulder and ordered him to stop there.
When his eyes finally found the screen, he looked over, surprised, “James Bond? Really?”
“Oh, god, yes.” She groaned, “That British piece of ass is the co star of most of my sex dreams.”
He didn’t expect the tiny twinge of jealousy her comment planted in his gut and he sneered as he replied, “I thought you were into girls now.”
“It’s James Bond, Mark.” She replied offhandedly, “I think it’s the accent.”
He felt almost disgust at the way she talked about stupid James Bond and he made a move to change the channel.
“Hey!” She grabbed the remote off his hand, turning to the side to sneeze, “I’m the sick one, we watch what I want.”
“Fine.” He grumbled.
Eight and a half hours later, after three hours of James Bond and after waiting around for Callie to go to sleep, due to enough NyQuill to knock down a bull, Mark sat in his apartment, a beer in his hand, half eaten pizza on the table. He didn’t bother to turn when the door opened.
“I’m home!” Lexie called as she walked in and dropped her belongings nearby, “It’s still weird saying that.” She continued to yammer on about her day as she moved around the place, found a beer and finally sat beside Mark on the couch. She grabbed the remote and turned the television on, “Oh, Notying Hill, I love this movie.”
“I hate Hugh Grant.” Mark mumbled beside her, a scowl placed firmly on his face.
“Why?” Lexie laughed.
“I hate his accent.”
“You do?”
“Yes. It’s stupid.” After a few moments of sitting there next to his girlfriend, and wishing his girlfriend was someone else, he moved to stand, “I should go check on Callie.”
“Oh, Arizona’s home. We came up together.”
“Oh--” He paused, his eyes falling on the TV screen for a second after Lexie changed the channel.
“Oh, ‘You’ve Got Mail’.” She said perkily, “I love Meg Ryan.”
“I hate Meg Ryan.” He replied.
“Why?” She laughed again.
“I don’t like blondes.” He kissed her cheek before she could ask if there was something wrong, and said over his shoulder, “I’m going to sleep. I’m tired.”
He didn’t get to sleep for three hours.
FIN
Title: I Was Next to You and You Were Right There Next to Me
(Or when Mark looked at Callie’s boobs and she didn’t notice)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mark/Callie, Mark/Lexie, Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: All characters, events, settings and situations mentioned in this work are sole property of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, in constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be defamatory or factual in anyway.
Summary: Callie’s sick. Mark brings her soup, and jealousy ensues.
Author’s Notes: This is ESPECIALLY dedicated to Megan Jean. I really, really think you will find this quite amusing J Enjoy, jellybean. Also, title is from the song ‘I Want You To’, bye Weezer. It was written totally last minute, so it’s not high quality, trust me. But hopefully, it’s entertaining enough.
**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
The smell of something home-made clouded Mark’s nostrils as he entered his kitchen, slipping a plain white tee-shirt over his head. “Smells good--” He announced.
“Oh, good you’re up. I was going to leave you a note.” Lexie replied as she hurriedly grabbed her purse off the counter and stepped around it to grab her keys, “I made some soup for Callie and I didn’t get a chance to take it to her. You’re off today, so can you take it over, please?”
“Torres is home?” He asked, leaning over to kiss Lexie goodbye before she headed for the door,
“Yeah, she’s sick, I think, and I’m being the good girlfriend and making soup for your best friend, so--” She smiled proudly as she opened the door, “--go over there and keep her company, it’ll keep you busy. Bye!”
The door closed and Mark moved leisurely around his kitchen, quickly finding a container. A pink container Lexie recently brought over and left there. He poured some of the just made chicken soup into a bowl instead and turned towards the door. He walked the few steps across the hall and knocked a couple of times before pushing the door open.
He winced as he shut the door behind him, “Whoa, Torres, what happened to you?”
A miserable looking Callie looked up from where she sat, huddled up under a blanket, hair up in a pony tail, tissue scattered all over, “Thanks. Jerk.”
“Honey, drink your tea--” Arizona called as she entered the living room in equal hurry to Lexie’s earlier exit. She smiled upon seeing Mark, “--oh good, you can keep her company.” She grabbed her purse in a similar manner as Lexie’s before kissing the top of Callie’s head and pointing sternly at the cup sat on the coffee table, “--tea, Calliope.” She spotted the bowl in his hands and smiled wider as she left, “Soup, how sweet! Tea, Calliope!”
“You brought me soup?” Callie mumbled groggily from the couch, stretching her neck to try and get a peek.
“Yeah.” He exhaled, grabbing a spoon from a nearby drawer, then heading towards the living room, “Lexie made it for you.”
“Awe…” She replied sarcastically before blowing her nose.
“Shut up, Sneezy.” He chuckled as she scrunched her nose at him.
He sat beside her, handed her the soup and watched as she took a spoonful and hummed in appreciation, “Good?”
“Oh my god…” She moaned.
She blanket she was wrapped in fell off her shoulder, to reveal a bright yellow tank top. A bright yellow tank top he knew all too well. She groaned and complained about it being hot and pushed the blanket off her torso completely. And that’s when it happened. His eyes strayed and landed on a cleavage. Cleavage he had not set eyes on in a long time, and he wondered why.
He swallowed audibly and grabbed the remote off her lap, clearing his throat as he changed the channel.
“I was watching that!” She protested through a mouthful of chicken.
“Eat your soup.” His eyes strayed again and he became irritated with himself. He reached over and pulled the blanket over her shoulders again, “Cover up, you’re sick.”
She was oblivious to his growing discomfort as he flipped channels, not really paying attention to the screen, until she slapped his shoulder and ordered him to stop there.
When his eyes finally found the screen, he looked over, surprised, “James Bond? Really?”
“Oh, god, yes.” She groaned, “That British piece of ass is the co star of most of my sex dreams.”
He didn’t expect the tiny twinge of jealousy her comment planted in his gut and he sneered as he replied, “I thought you were into girls now.”
“It’s James Bond, Mark.” She replied offhandedly, “I think it’s the accent.”
He felt almost disgust at the way she talked about stupid James Bond and he made a move to change the channel.
“Hey!” She grabbed the remote off his hand, turning to the side to sneeze, “I’m the sick one, we watch what I want.”
“Fine.” He grumbled.
Eight and a half hours later, after three hours of James Bond and after waiting around for Callie to go to sleep, due to enough NyQuill to knock down a bull, Mark sat in his apartment, a beer in his hand, half eaten pizza on the table. He didn’t bother to turn when the door opened.
“I’m home!” Lexie called as she walked in and dropped her belongings nearby, “It’s still weird saying that.” She continued to yammer on about her day as she moved around the place, found a beer and finally sat beside Mark on the couch. She grabbed the remote and turned the television on, “Oh, Notying Hill, I love this movie.”
“I hate Hugh Grant.” Mark mumbled beside her, a scowl placed firmly on his face.
“Why?” Lexie laughed.
“I hate his accent.”
“You do?”
“Yes. It’s stupid.” After a few moments of sitting there next to his girlfriend, and wishing his girlfriend was someone else, he moved to stand, “I should go check on Callie.”
“Oh, Arizona’s home. We came up together.”
“Oh--” He paused, his eyes falling on the TV screen for a second after Lexie changed the channel.
“Oh, ‘You’ve Got Mail’.” She said perkily, “I love Meg Ryan.”
“I hate Meg Ryan.” He replied.
“Why?” She laughed again.
“I don’t like blondes.” He kissed her cheek before she could ask if there was something wrong, and said over his shoulder, “I’m going to sleep. I’m tired.”
He didn’t get to sleep for three hours.
FIN