(no subject)
Title: Out Of The Mouths Of Babes (11/?)
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Pairing: Mark/Callie and other canon pairings
Rating: NC17
Summary: After Callie miscarries, she finds love in an unexpected place with someone who can't really tie his shoes yet.
A/N: Well, this is my favorite chapter so I feel a lot better about it than the last one. Angst, smut, and happiness AHOY! I'm SOOOOO excited. I hope y'all like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (well, parts of it anyway... )
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
*~*~*~*~*~
"So, have you set a date yet?" Chief Webber asked Mark.
They were working together on a construction worker who had fallen three stories. Webber was only getting started on repairing the internal damage, but Mark was already putting sutures in place on the man’s face. Smiling, Mark shook his head. "We almost did it yesterday. We took Jack to the park and drove past the courthouse. She said we could stop, but ... you know ... I’m still hoping that she’ll plan a wedding and invite people."
"I’m sure she has her reasons why she doesn’t want to do that."
Mark concentrated on the worst of the laceration, frowning slightly as he attempted to keep the scarring minimal. A second later, the door flew open and he almost gave the patient a brand new cut. Scowling, he glanced up at the intruder. "Well, well. If it isn’t ‘Butch Cassidy’. What do we owe the pleasure, Indigo Girl?"
"It’s Callie." Cristina’s hands were shaking as she held her mask in place. "She collapsed. She’s in the clinic."
Chief Webber cleared his throat. "Dr. Yang, scrub in and take over for Dr. Sloan. Mark, go."
Cristina hurried back through the door and grabbed the soap. Mark joined her, snatching off his gloves. "What happened?" he snapped. "What -"
"McDeaver committed suicide this morning," Cristina replied, rubbing her flesh so hard that it stung. "It was all over the news and she saw it. I - I tried to catch her before she hit the ground, but I didn’t make it. She hit her head on one of the tables in the waiting room and -"
"How bad is it?" he asked as he stripped off his surgical gear.
"She’ll need stitches." Cristina rinsed her arms and looked up at him. "I know that you hate me right now, but can you please send someone to update me? I - for the first time in my life ... I don’t want to operate. I want to be there."
Mark nodded, his eyes on hers. In the time that he had known Yang, he had never seen her so close to tears. "Yeah, I’ll keep you posted."
"Thank you."
Hurrying from the room, Mark almost busted his ass. He reached down and yanked off his shoe covers. So much for the theory that they were non-skid. Chucking them into the trash, he punched the elevator button, but an eternity seemed to pass so he used the stairwell instead. He practically jumped down each set of steps and when he finally burst through the clinic doors, there was a small crowd milling around that consisted entirely of doctors and a handful of nurses. He didn’t have to wonder who was behind the closed curtains. It was something they did, the hospital family. When one of them was hurt ... they grouped together in defiance that sickness or tragedy would dare strike one of them.
Meredith stepped forward and took his hand. "She’s not awake yet."
"The head injury?" he asked.
"It’s not severe," Meredith replied. "It’s superficial and Derek’s actually stitching her up."
"Derek can’t stitch!" Mark snapped, trying to push past Meredith, but she put her hands on his chest and shook her head. He looked down at her. "Is there something else?"
"She’s spotting. Not a lot, but enough. We’ve called Addison and -"
Mark moved around her with such force that she jumped out of the way. He pushed aside the curtain and almost tripped over his own feet. Callie was pale. Her face had been haphazardly wiped ‘clean’ but there was drying blood around her nose and on her chin. Derek had stitched the small cut on her temple and was currently checking her pupils. He didn’t look at Mark when he said, "You need to wait outside."
"Not happening." Mark leaned down and brushed Callie’s hair off her forehead, studying her closely. His heart did somersaults in his chest when he felt how cold and clammy her skin was. "She’s sweating."
"Her blood pressure was pretty high," Dr. Bailey told him. "We think it’s a one time thing brought on by stress, however, and not an underlying problem. We’re waiting on some blood work to check her insulin levels as well."
"And the baby?"
Bailey flipped a switch behind her and the sounds of the baby’s heartbeat filled the small area. The low conversation on the other side of the curtain ceased entirely. Mark could have sunk to the floor with relief, but he leaned his head against Callie’s, whispering softly in her ear instead. A moment later, her eyelids fluttered open and her hand went protectively to her stomach. "Mark-"
"It’s okay." He laid his hand on top of hers. "You hear that? The baby’s fine. How do you feel?"
"What happened?" She cried out in pain when he shifted, no longer blocking the light. It hurt all the way through her head.
"This will help," Derek said, putting a cool cloth over her eyes. "Callie, can you answer a few questions for me? I need to hear your response so that I’ll know your brain is -"
Callie massaged her brow through the cloth. "Two and two is four. It’s Thursday. We have an alleged president called Bush and you’re probably going to hold up three fingers and ask me to confirm that."
"She’s good," Derek said, smiling at Mark.
"Tell me about it." Mark glanced up when a gray haired man pushed the curtain aside and nodded at them.
"Hello, Callie," the elderly man said, putting a hand on her leg.
"Paul?" Callie lifted one side of the cloth and peered at him. It was a move she immediately regretted and she quickly shut her eyes. "What are you-"
"I was here to visit a friend and heard about what happened to you. Would you like me to take a look?" Paul asked gently. "I’d be happy to help."
"Is something wrong with the baby?" Callie sat up so fast that the cloth dropped into her lap. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she grabbed hold of the bed to anchor herself. The nausea came next and it took everything in her to swallow back the bile that rose in her throat. "Oh ... god."
"You have a mild concussion." Derek eased her back against the bed. "It’s better for you to stay on your back for a little while. Okay?"
"But the baby-"
"I’ll take care of it," Paul assured her. The old man smiled at Mark and said, "Callie has replaced both of my hips and my rotator cuff. She keeps this old skeleton up and running so coming out of retirement is the least I can do."
Paul Sheffield had been the premiere west coast ob/gyn in his day. Rapidly approaching eighty years old, he was still agile and graceful as he performed the examination on Callie. He spoke at length with Mark, telling him everything that he found. He finally concluded that the baby was fine and the spotting was nothing more than a cervical irritation that could have been brought on by heavy lifting or intercourse.
Mark looked away guiltily. He had woken Callie up that morning by going down on her and the sex that ensued had been adventurous enough to cause one of the slats to fall out from under the bed. When the old man left and Callie was wheeled to a private room for observation, Mark followed along beside her, saying nothing. He was mentally exhausted and ashamed of himself for not being more careful with her. That would change.
Unfortunately, the television was on in the room and Callie glanced at it when they mentioned McDeaver. She had apparently forgotten because she sat up again, shocked, and this time she ignored the dizziness completely. Mark flipped the television off and joined her on the bed. "You heard what Derek said. You need to lie still for a while."
She gazed at the blank TV, holding her ground when he tried to urge her against the pillow. "Turn it back on."
"No, baby."
"It’s my fault." Her chin trembled when she finally looked at Mark. "I told him to kill himself. I even told him how to do it. He - he’s Jack’s *father* and I -"
"*I* am Jack’s father." Mark rubbed her leg. "Callie, listen to me ... you have to stay calm. You have to think about the baby."
"How will I tell Jack?"
"He never has to know," Mark replied, reaching up to wipe the tears off her face. "Please don’t do this. You need to relax. Your body is already stressed from the pregnancy and your blood pressure was way too high. So, think about the fact that there won’t be a trial now."
"BECAUSE I TOLD HIM TO KILL HIMSELF!" she sobbed. "I DID IT!"
"People kill themselves because they’re cowards. This has nothing to do with you."
"Eighth grade," she said, fresh tears running down her face. "Someone put a note in my locker telling me to kill myself and not to wait for the cancer to do it. They told me to cut my wrists and I tried. I tried to do it in the garage so the mess could be cleaned up easily, but my parents came home and caught me. They called me a coward, too, but being dead was better than being terrified to live. I shouldn’t have said that to him, Mark. I know how it felt! His blood is on me now and -"
"Stop this." Mark hugged her. She had told him few details about her childhood and as she trembled in his arms, he didn’t have to wonder why. He had envisioned many scenarios in his head based on what little she had shared, but the reality was a million times worse. "They’re going to sedate you if you keep this up and you know that it could hurt the baby. There are side effects with the growth and development of the fetus at this stage and-"
She leaned back and looked at him, angrily swiping at the tears on her face. "Stop doing that!"
"Stop doing what?"
"I *know* what will hurt the baby. You act like I would intentionally do something and -"
"No. No, I don’t." Mark looked at the wound on her temple. "I’m just a man, Callie, I can’t imagine what it feels like to carry a baby, but I’m also a doctor. So you’ll have to forgive me if I slip into doctor mode when it comes to you and our child."
"I don’t need a doctor right now, Mark. I just told you something about *me* that I’ve never told anyone and you didn’t even acknowledge it."
"What do you want me to say? I’m sorry that kids were cruel to you, but there comes a point where you just ... get over it. Your past has nothing to do with what’s going on right now. No one is telling you to hurt yourself ... instead I’m sitting here begging you not to."
"You’re not concerned about me!" she cried. "Don’t pretend that you are. Ever since you found out that I’m pregnant you have become an overbearing ass. You tell me where I can go, what I can do, what I can eat -"
"Someone has to!" he shouted. "You don’t take care of yourself! If you had listened to me and not gone to the prison to begin with -"
"HOW DARE YOU!?"
"I DARE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"
"No, you dare because I’m the incubator that you can’t keep under your thumb!"
"Callie-"
"Get out."
"Let’s get something straight," he snapped. "I’m not the bad guy here. I’m worried. I’m worried because you had a miscarriage and you’re under a lot of strain right now. I don’t think you could handle losing another baby and I know that I couldn’t handle losing either one of you."
"I’m not having this conversation."
"Don’t you ever accuse me of treating you like an incubator or ... or not caring for you. In case you knocked the memory out earlier ... I asked you to marry me before you got pregnant. You only said yes because you are."
"That is not true!"
"Like hell it’s not! You got pregnant and it scared you and -"
"I said yes because you were browbeating me over Cristina!"
"Then give me back the ring!"
She snatched it off and threw it at him. "Leave! I always knew you would! It’s what men do! Just like I said!"
The door opened and Bailey stepped into the room. Judging by the look on her face, she had heard the shouting. Instead of mentioning it, she quietly took Callie’s blood pressure and shook her head. "It’s climbing again. Lean forward a little, Cal."
Callie did as she was told and gasped when Bailey crawled into the bed behind her. "What are -"
"You just breathe," Bailey told her, rubbing her back. She increased the pressure after a few seconds, deeply massaging the stiff muscles in the other woman’s shoulders. "I had hypertension when I was pregnant. I couldn’t take anything for it, but this helped. It always helped. Tucker has the best hands for massaging ... and he never raised his voice."
Mark had to look away from the evil look that Bailey was giving him. For the first time in his life, he felt like a scared intern who had just broken every hospital rule. And she was the Chief Resident, the Nazi, who could get him kicked out of the program. "I’m sorry, Callie," he whispered. "I don’t mean to -"
"No talking!" Bailey snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. "If you want to stay in here you keep your mouth shut, Sloan!"
"Okay."
Closing her eyes, Callie concentrated on her breathing. A second later, Mark took her hand and she clung to him, feeling the tension begin to leave her body.
She was fast asleep by the time Addison arrived, curled on her side with her ring free hand under her cheek.
*~
"Reiki?"
"Reiki." Pete crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at Mark. "Do you have a better idea?"
"I’ve never heard of it. What the hell is it?" Mark stood a little taller so that he had a couple of inches on the other man. "Will it hurt her?"
"No more than she’s already been hurt." Pete raised a brow to remind Mark that he had just left Callie’s room, where she was filling Addison in on *everything*. "You may need it as well ... when Addison gets done with you."
"What *is* it?" Mark repeated through clenched teeth.
"It’s a Japanese technique that helps with stress reduction, relaxation, and promotes healing." Pete shifted his bag on his shoulder. "It will take me about ninety minutes. Make sure we’re not interrupted."
"I can’t do that. I’ll be there for it."
"That’s not advisable, actually." Pete shook his head. "I don’t think she’ll relax with you in the room."
"And why is that?"
"Because she just called you every name I’ve ever heard and then she repeated them in Spanish." With a shrug, Pete took a step back toward Callie’s door. "Whatever you did -"
"Don’t you worry about what I did," Mark snapped. "Which was nothing!"
"Ninety minutes," Pete said, disappearing into her room.
Mark slumped against the wall, crossing his ankles. He had left the hospital long enough to pick up Jack at the school. It had felt awful to lie to his son and tell him that Callie was performing surgery. Jack had asked to go into the viewing deck to wave hello, but Mark had distracted the child with candy in the vending machine, buying him two of his favorite kinds. When he had left him in the nursery, Jack was happily working on his homework while Tuck looked on.
"You look about as bad as you should," Bailey told him, coming to a stop beside him. "How in the hell can you scream at a woman who -"
"Miranda, please. Not right now."
"She was going to tell you yes before she found out she was pregnant. She told me on Christmas night that she didn’t mean to say no." Bailey slumped down into a chair and nodded at the one beside her. "Don’t forget that I was in the hallway when you browbeat her into agreeing to marry you, Sloan. You were holding the Yang thing over her head and making it seem like she had to choose between the two of you."
Mark sat down, his head in his hands. "I told her the only reason she said yes was because she was pregnant."
"I heard that too. This whole floor did."
"She thinks I only care about the baby." He looked over at her. "Do you know how that feels?"
"Probably as bad as she feels."
Callie’s door opened and Mark got to his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets when Addison walked out carrying the chart. His fingers ached to grab it and see her lab results for himself. "Well?"
"Number one, you’re an asshole. Number two, you’re an asshole who needs to be smacked and number three, how in the *hell* could you make her give you the ring back?" Addison drew back to punch his arm, but Bailey beat her to it. "Thank you, Miranda."
"Ow!" Mark cried, grabbing his bicep. He moved out of the small woman’s range. "How is she?"
"How do you think she is?!" Addison bellowed. "You spineless dick! Gutless-"
"I *know*," he snapped. "Can you try to be professional and tell me what the prognosis is!?"
"Her prognosis is fine. The baby’s prognosis is fine. You ... on the other hand ... you need a lobotomy."
Miranda’s pager went off and she excused herself, leveling Mark with a glare that was still on her face when the elevator doors closed. Mark looked at Addison and sat back down, his shoulders slumped. "You don’t understand everything that -" he began.
"No, you don’t understand." Addison sat beside him, moving her chair several inches away. "Callie and I had a lot of talks before you. Hell, before George. We became friends while all the guys ... no, while all the *cool* guys ... were on that camping trip that hurt Walter. You remember? You weren’t invited."
"Let’s play ‘kick Mark while he’s down’, shall we?"
"Turnabout’s fair play." Addison laid the chart in her lap. "She told you about the cancer, but I don’t think she told you that her mother blamed her for it. Like it was something she caused, something she wanted. Her mom was a drama queen who didn’t really like having a daughter. She felt like she had to compete with Callie and nothing Callie did was right."
"That hasn’t changed."
"I know. That’s why you’re an asshole for treating her the way her parents do. They treat her like she’s stupid, like she can’t think for herself. They accuse her of things that are so outlandish and ridiculous that it hurts her." Addison took a deep breath. "Because of that, because of the cancer and the abuse she took off her classmates, she closes people off. George was the first person she ever let her guard down with and he destroyed her. She’s scared, Mark.
"She has a son who was abused and his biological father just died. She’s carrying a baby in a spot that was left vacant by another baby ... a baby that she wanted, that she loved and needed. George had left her, her family was pissed at her for the marriage falling apart and when that baby died ... parts of her died with it. And it’s been over a year now, but her brain, her body, doesn’t know that. Her body was carrying a baby and her brain wanted it. Just because the baby died ... it doesn’t mean that she let go of that.
"So, even though it’s been a while since she lost her baby ... she is still mourning it. She loves your baby, Mark. She loves you, but I don’t think she can let her hopes get built up right now because I think she believes that this baby won’t make it. She’s bleeding like clockwork every month, she has no side effects, no morning sickness or *anything*. So I don’t think it’s as real for her as it will be when she starts to show." Addison reached out and touched his hand. "And the Cristina thing ... it’s harmless. I had a crush on Callie, too."
Mark looked at her, speechless for several seconds. "Fuck! All this time I’ve been thinking I need to kick every man’s ass who gets near her, but it’s the women I need to worry about."
"You don’t need to worry at all. She adores you."
"She hasn’t told me much about her past. Just that ... you know ... her classmates were mean to her and suggested that she kill herself."
"They also tried to kill her. Not literally, but figuratively. They spit at her, they’d tug her wig off, they’d beat her, kick her. They cut the tires on her car and bashed the headlights. They burned her with cigarettes. They locked her in a closet and she’d cut herself so that the pain would be tangible and not inside." Addison regarded him. "You’re shocked. You didn’t think it was that bad?"
"No." He shook his head. "I thought it was the normal stuff that kids do to each other. Why did they - why her?"
"She was rich and they were jealous. Then it wasn’t about the money. Her brother ... the one who is just a year younger than her ... he took their dad’s car out for a joyride and wound up killing two football players who were tossing the ball in the road. He was only fourteen at the time and Callie was fifteen. She was sick with the cancer by then and she was supposed to be in charge, but she couldn’t because the chemo made her so sick that she lived in front of the toilet. Her parents blamed her. And Gustav, her brother, went to juvenile home and since he was the first born son ... her parents blamed her."
"How could she not tell me this?"
"Because you’re the guy who tells someone to ‘get over it’ when they try."
Leaning his head back against the wall, Mark rubbed the tears out of his eyes. "You think a dozen roses will be enough?"
"She hates roses."
"So ... wildflowers?"
"She likes stargazer lilies. The florist beside the Archfield has them year round."
"Right." He got to his feet and rubbed his palms over his jeans. They were sweating profusely. "I’ll be back by the time he’s finished doing rapey or whatever his voodoo is."
"It’s called Reiki and it works. He does it to me all the time."
Mark’s nostrils flared. "I don’t want him doing anything to her that he does to you! Addison, go in there and -"
"You’re being an asshole again."
"Fine." He gave her a one fingered salute and headed for the elevator.
Cristina was standing inside with her hands on her hips. "Thanks for keeping me posted, Sloan."
"Shit. I forgot." He caught her arm when she started to exit the lift. "Want to go on an errand with me?"
"I want to go see Callie."
"Pete’s doing Reiki right now."
"He’s doing what?"
"Don’t ask. It’s Japanese. You should know about that."
"I’m *Korean*, but I can’t even pretend to be shocked that you just assume that every Asian person is Japanese. I guess I have it coming since I think that every male plastic surgeon is in it to look at boobs and naked women."
He hit the button to close the doors. "This is me extending the olive branch!"
She leaned back against the wall. "Where are we going?"
"To buy Callie flowers."
"God, I’m in hell."
"So am I. Thanks for the company."
*~*~*~*~*~
By the time Pete finished the Reiki treatment, Callie was a believer. There was no tension in her body and the pain in her head was completely gone. When he helped her to the bathroom, she experienced no dizziness or nausea from getting to her feet and she was smiling from ear to ear when she returned to the bed. He explained that he would be able to send Reiki to her from Los Angeles and she nodded, so relaxed that she couldn’t speak. He patted her leg and excused himself, leaving the room
Addison grinned at her, taking her hand. "Feels orgasmic, huh?"
Callie shook her head. "Nothing feels that good."
"Slut," Addy replied, sitting beside her. "So, the good news is your blood pressure is back down. The bad news is that you’re anemic so we’ll need to change your vitamins and get you more iron."
"Thanks for coming all this way. You didn’t have to. Paul Sheffield examined me and -"
"THE Paul Sheffield? Callie!"
"He came out of retirement for me."
"Oh my god. I *need* to meet him."
"He’s living at the Whispering Pines Rest Home. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to have a visitor." She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. "Where’s Mark?"
"I think he ran out to get Jack some dinner."
"When can I go home?"
"Well, Derek has you under observation for twenty four hours. That lick you took was no laughing matter." Reaching up, Addison gingerly touched the bruise on her temple. "You’ll have a shiner, I think, but since you still wear your eyeliner like a raccoon no one will notice."
Callie laughed at her. "I miss you."
"I miss you, too."
There was a light knock on the door and Cristina walked in. She carried a pink bakery box in her hands and was beaming. "Turtle cheesecake. Your favorite."
Addison got to her feet and said, "I’ll leave you two alone and -"
"Are you kidding?" Cristina replied. "I brought three forks."
"Count me in." Addison accepted the plastic fork and raised the head of Callie’s bed. Cristina pulled up the rolling table and sat down across from Callie. Addison sat beside her and smiled when the younger woman pulled the cheesecake out of the box. ‘Get Well, Iphigenia Vagina’ was written on the top. "I’ve never had vagina pie."
"Vagina *is* pie." Cristina smiled when Callie dug in. "Mark stopped calling me all variations of ‘Butch’, by the way."
"He did?" Callie raised a brow. "What does that leave?"
"He’s calling me ‘stina, which I’ll let him do if it means that he gives up on the lesbian references." Cristina took a huge bite of the cheesecake. "Besides, I have a date with Chief Webber this weekend."
Callie and Addison both choked on their cake. "What!?" they mumbled together.
"Look, it wasn’t planned," Cristina replied. "I was forced to perform surgery in Sloan’s place and apparently Sloan had agreed to feed him lines to woo some random nurse. And ... well, Webber became a bumbling idiot. I swear, he wasn’t even speaking a language. It was grunts and spasms. But, I got the gist of it and reminded him that we already had plans. He was so grateful he almost cried."
"Are you really going out with him?" Callie asked.
"We’re going to see ‘Disney on Ice’," she replied with a shrug. Looking back and forth between the two women, she wrinkled her nose. "Okay, now I have NO secrets. I like Disney. I like figure skating. And ... well, I’m *bisexual* so men in tights and women who spin and show their ass? That’s my kinda date."
"Plus ... he’s the Chief." Callie took another bite.
"There is that."
"Power whore."
"I’ve pretty much reverted to form."
"Plus, once you go black -" Addison began.
"It was too tacky for me to say it," Callie interjected.
"I confirm it," Cristina supplied. "Though I will not be sleeping with the Chief."
They all looked at one another and burst out laughing then they ate so much of the cheesecake that all three of them were miserable when Mark arrived. Addison and Cristina quickly gathered the cake and made themselves scarce. Callie tilted her head to one side, staring at the biggest bouquet of flowers she had ever seen. Mark held it in front of him and the stalks still almost rubbed the ceiling.
He waited until Addison shut the door before he set the flowers on the table. "I’m sorry."
Callie smiled a little, staring straight up. "Nothing says I’m sorry like a centerpiece that would be too big for the Governor’s mansion."
"I had to leave my car at the florist and walk this thing back here. It wouldn’t fit." He leaned down and kissed her, lingering over her lips. "How do you feel?"
"I’m ready to go home. Addison said that Derek wants to keep me overnight and - well, I don’t want to stay."
"I’m staying with you. That may not be the best news you’ve heard, but ... I’m not going anywhere, baby."
"That’s actually the best news I heard all day." She reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers. "I don’t want to fight with you anymore."
He kissed her again. "Me either. I need you to understand something though."
"Mark-"
"I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. You’re the reason I was put here. I don’t have faith in many things, but I have faith in you. I know that you’d never hurt this baby or ... me." He trailed his thumb down her cheek. "If I have ever made you think that you’re just an ... incubator ... then clearly I don’t show you enough what you mean to me and that’s my fault. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again."
"I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, too."
"I’m not finished." He kissed her again when her face fell. "You shouldn’t ‘get over it’. Your past, I mean. I want to hear it all, even the horrible parts, because I want to know how you became who you are today. Because who you are amazes me. I won’t dismiss it again, Callie. I may get pissed as hell on your behalf, but I want to hear it anyway."
"One day," she replied. "I’ll tell you everything."
"But not today?"
"Not today." She watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. "Not today for that either."
"Baby, I didn’t mean-"
"When I wear that ... I don’t want either one of us to have any doubts *why*."
"I don’t ... do you have ... Callie, don’t have doubts."
"I promise you that I will marry you. Just ... not yet."
"Please? Wear it. We can have a long engagement or -"
"Not *today*." Callie hugged him, her nose very close to one of the lilies. The smell, something that she usually loved, was suddenly cloying and overwhelming. She pulled away, cupping her hand over her nose. "Oh god."
"What’s wrong?"
"I’m gonna be -"
And just like that, she leaned to one side and threw up in the floor. When she had emptied her stomach of the cheesecake and sat back up, her eyes were watering from the intensity of her sickness.
Mark rushed into the bathroom and wet a cloth, rubbing her face. "Are you -"
"I’m *pregnant*," she replied with an enormous grin. Something flashed across her face and she laid a hand on her belly. "And those flowers really, really stink."
He picked up the bouquet, hurried across the room, and opened the door. Addison was standing just outside and she took the flowers without a word. "Can you page housekeeping?" he asked.
"She’s sick?"
"The smell got to her."
"I thought it might." Addison smiled knowingly. "And she’s happy?"
"She is."
"My work is done. I should charge you double."
*~*~*~*~*~
Three weeks after being released from the hospital, sex was killing Callie. Rather, lack of sex was killing Callie. Mark had taken it upon himself to decide that too much of a good thing was ... too much of a good thing and actually Turned. Her. Down. several times. He finally informed her that their sex life was the culprit in her spotting and when they did make love ... he was slow and easy and so aggravating that Callie found herself with her own hand in her panties more often than not.
Her heightened sense of smell wasn’t the only new pregnancy symptom she found herself dealing with. Her hormones were all over the place and she craved sex every waking moment. So, after they dropped Jack off at school on a Monday and headed back home to enjoy their off day, she put her plan into action. He was exhausted and sleepily returned to bed, throwing his hands over his head as he stretched out beneath the cover. She seized the moment and cuffed his wrists to the headboard.
When he looked at her with wide eyes, there was no sign of his fatigue. "What are you -"
"I’m *pregnant*," she told him. "I’m *pregnant* and you have forced me to go to the sex shop to buy handcuffs."
"I can see that." He rattled the cuffs and sighed. "Okay, very funny. Take them off and -"
"Mark, I need sex. I need the kind of sex that we’re famous for. Dirty and *painful*. I need it to be so dirty and so *hard* that -"
"No." He shook his head. "As soon as you have this baby and we live celibate for six weeks ... I will *fuck* you until you can’t close your legs, but until then we’re gonna take it easy."
"I will *die* if you don’t stop this." She grabbed the waistband of his boxer briefs and tried to slide them down, but he pressed his backside into the bed, holding them on. "I was prepared for this, Sloan."
"For wh-"
She picked up a pair of scissors and took advantage of his shock to quickly cut one side of his underwear open. Smiling, she dropped the scissors into the floor and pulled her shirt over her head. She was not wearing a bra and when she stood to push her pants down, she knew that Mark was following her every move. In the short span of time that she had cut off his boxers, his cock had gone from lying against his stomach to standing full at attention and she grinned when she climbed back onto the bed.
Mark lifted his knees when she started to straddle him. "Callie, this was really cute and really amusing, but -"
Leaning down, she took him in her mouth and he bucked upward. His legs fell back to the bed and she seized the opportunity to move between them, letting her hair skim over the tight muscles of his thighs. Gripping him tightly in her hand, she pumped him hard, sucking and nipping until he warned her that he was going to come if she didn’t stop. With a smile, she slid up his body and started to lower herself onto his cock, but he shook his head.
"Sit on my face."
"Niiice." She pulled the pillow from under his head and eased his hands further down the brass pole of the headboard, which she held onto as she did as he requested.
He was not gentle or easy as he attacked her aching flesh. She fell back, her hands on his chest as his tongue did things to her that left her head spinning. He shifted a little, gazing up at her. "Take the cuffs off."
"Nope," she panted. "Don’t stop."
"Take them off so I can touch you."
"You are touching me."
"I’ll stop." He gave her a look that meant business so she pushed herself upright and unlocked the cuffs with the key she had left on the edge of the bed. "If you don’t make me scream ... I swear to God -"
He pulled her back to his mouth and roughly shoved two fingers into her, curling them. She cried out and when he latched onto her clit, her fingers dug into the headboard. He brought her to the edge time and time again only to deny her at the last possible minute. She gripped his hair when he tried to prolong it further and held him in place. Feeling him laugh against her was enough. It vibrated in just the right spot and she got her wish.
She screamed.
Mark didn’t give her much time to enjoy the orgasm. He sat up, forcing her to fall back against the bed. She screeched when his fingers returned to her wet center, this time three instead of two, and he sucked her nipple. When she felt his teeth, she arched her back and he slid his hand under her, flipping her onto her stomach.
He kissed her the small of her back, licking a path up and down her spine as she wriggled beneath him. Without warning, he slapped her on the ass and grinned when her hand flew to cover it. He slapped the other cheek, then bit the rounded globe as he pulled her to her knees. When he slammed into her, his fingers bit into her hips so hard that it hurt *him* so he had no doubt that it was exactly what she wanted.
Callie liked it rough.
She liked to wear the scratches and bruises of their coupling like a badge of honor.
Pulling her upright, he yanked her hair to one side and sucked on her neck, leaving a hickey there the size of a silver dollar. He continued to nibble as his hand moved lower, back to her center where he rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand guided her to and fro as he slammed into her with everything he had.
"Oh.. fuck..." she cried. Her hands dug into his as she got off again.
He let her ride the waves of that one for a few moments.
But just a few.
When he pulled back and drove into her again, it was hard enough to knock her forward. She gripped handfuls of the bedclothes as his hips pumped at a frenetic pace. He came with a growl of her name, tangling his hand in her hair. Leaning down, he kissed her back again, forcing her down against the cover.
The friction of the comforter against her clit pushed her over the edge again and she found her release for the third time. He chuckled against her neck as she clamped around him. His lust was renewed and he knew that they would not be enjoying a morning nap.
He barely moved as he lifted the handcuffs from the pillow and slipped them onto her wrists. "My turn."
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie didn’t start to show until the latter part of her fifth month and even then it was barely noticeable. She recovered *almost* completely from the fall. The only lasting side effect was her refusal to wear the engagement ring again. Mark asked her daily and she shook her head every time, whispering ‘not today’. Addison flew out every two weeks to monitor her friend’s progress and promised Callie that the pregnancy was progressing smoothly. Pete always came with her and always gave Callie ‘alternative’ treatments for her headaches, which were now occurring only after long surgeries.
The baby proved to be much less of a exhibitionist than its parents. It kept its legs firmly closed every single time they tried to determine the sex. Neither Mark nor Callie knew where the child got *that* from. Both of them were comfortable baring all at the drop of a hat. They got Jack involved in the name game and he suggested everything under the sun, including ‘Sun’ and ‘Moon’ and ‘Star’. When he decided to call his little brother or sister ‘Green Bean’, they bought a baby name book and read it to him every night.
As she began her sixth month, Callie’s back protested the extra weight and her boobs had gotten so big (which Mark loved) that she wore two sports bras because she was so self conscious. Her stomach was officially preceding her arrival into any room and her friends and co-workers had taken to rubbing it for luck before surgery. When she was paged to the clinic after a consult one day, she assumed that someone wanted to get their rub on. What she found was a little girl with tangled, ratty hair who was backed into the corner like a wild animal, lashing out at anyone who got near her.
"Possible wrist fracture," Miranda said, handing her a chart. "And her face needs stitches. I’ve paged Mark, too."
"Where’s her mother?"
"Outside smoking. Again."
Callie put the chart on the nearest table and glanced at the gaggle of interns who stood watching nearby. She pointedly gripped the curtain and closed it, blocking their view. Bailey stood just behind her and watched as she kneeled down. "Hi, sweetie. I’m Dr. Torres. What’s your name?"
"Lemme alone!"
"Can I take a look at your arm? I’m a doctor who fixes bones and -"
"You are?" the little girl asked, looking curious now. "Are you Callie?"
"Uhm ... yeah."
"You fixed my brother’s arm. Are you Jack’s mama now?"
Callie almost swallowed her tongue. "Are you Emily?"
"Uh huh. He told me all about you when you fixed him. Kept hurting hisself to come see you again."
"Did you hurt yourself?"
Emily shook her head, using her uninjured hand to push her brown hair out of her eyes. "Mean old Miss Pratt, the mama, she throwed a basket of clothes on me ‘cause I didn’t want to fold none. I hurted my arm on account of her so I told her she was a beaver faced bitch and she brung me here to keep from stranglin’ me. Least that’s what she said, the sow."
Callie smiled at the little girl, trying hard not to laugh. Emily was smaller than Jack by a long shot, but she had his spirit and speech patterns down to a science. Now that Callie could see the little girl’s face clearly, she could see the resemblance to Jack. They shared the same brown eyes, almond shaped and sparkling and their smiles were crooked and sweet. "Will you let me look at your arm, Emily?"
The girl nodded, then slowly walked toward Callie with her arm held out. "Don’t hurt me none," she whispered. "Please."
Callie made a move to pick her up.
"CALLIOPE TORRES!" Mark shouted. "YOU CANNOT DO *ANY* LIFTING AND -"
He trailed off when the child looked up at him with a look of reverence. "DOCTOR MARK!"
"Emily?" He kneeled down beside Callie and the little girl rushed into his arms so fast and with such force that it knocked him onto his back. He clung to her as he pushed himself upright and settled her on his leg. The cut on her cheek had started to bleed again and he frowned, looking at Callie. "What happened to her?"
"Apparently abuse doesn’t just happen at the group home," she replied, struggling to her feet. Bailey hurried forward and helped her. Callie put a hand on the small of her back as she did the pregnant waddle to the supply closet and grabbed what Mark would need to suture the little girl.
When Callie turned, she drew up short. Mark was cradling Emily against his chest and the child had both of her skinny arms around his neck. Callie met Mark’s eyes and took a deep breath. They had already talked about it at length. They had agreed that Jack needed his sister and vice versa. She was going to nod her confirmation before Miss Pratt stormed into the room and launched into a tirade at the little girl, but hearing it was all the prompting that she needed.
When the short, overweight woman wrenched the child from Mark’s arms and plopped her on the stretcher while announcing that they needed to ‘hurry the hell up’, Callie calmly put the supplies on the table and said, "The blow to her face was a significant one. She’ll need to stay here for a few days."
"What?!" Miss Pratt cried, glaring at the little girl. "Now look what you done! Well, I ain’t coming to see you until they let you go. I got too much on me as it is. You better not make them call me to tell me you’re acting up neither. You understand, girl?"
"Yes, ma’am," Emily replied, wringing her hands the same way Jack did.
The woman didn’t hug Emily or tell her goodbye. She paused only to cast an admiring look at Mark, who regarded her the same way a person would regard a cock roach in their soup. When they were alone, Emily looked at Callie and said, "Jack was right. You’re awful nice."
"How would you like a sucker?" Callie asked.
She would worry about dental care when the paperwork was officially signed.
*~
Three hours later, Emily had talked with the police and the same social worker who had helped Callie adopt Jack was on the scene. Vivian Morse rubbed Callie’s belly and smiled at her, politely inquiring about Jack. Callie made small talk and then asked the three million dollar question. "Why did your agency not tell us where she was? We’ve been calling every week to see if there was information on her yet."
"We were not prepared for what happened with McDeaver. So much of the paperwork was given to the police department as evidence." Vivian ran a hand over her weathered face. "And Emily is her middle name. She was filed under Gillian instead of Emily. Her last name didn’t match Jack’s, either. I’ve personally searched for her myself for you. I’m so sorry that it has taken so long."
"What will it take for us to adopt her?" Callie asked softly.
Vivian smiled. "Willingness. I went through her file when you called. That’s how I found out about her name. I had to locate her in Miss Pratt’s file. Emily’s on her sixth foster home since the group closed. She’s a great kid, but she’s damaged."
"We’re all damaged," Mark told her, his arm around Callie. "Our attorney said that since Jack is her only living relative we should be able to expedite the process. We don’t want her to go back into the system. At all."
With a nod, Vivian said, "Your attorney is correct. Since Callie has already adopted and we have all of her information already, I should be able to get through the red tape fairly quickly."
"How long?" Callie said.
"A week. Possibly two." Glancing down at Callie’s belly again, Vivian added, "Do you understand what you’re about to do? Emily does have behavioral problems and you’re bringing her into a family that will have a newborn in just a few short months. There could jealousy issues or anger and who knows how she’ll react."
"It’s a bridge we’re prepared to cross," Mark replied, looking through the glass window of the children’s ward where Emily was sitting on her bed. The little girl met his eyes and waved at him and he waved back, smiling because she did. "Is there anything we need to do?"
"I can’t release her into your custody because you’re not foster parents. So," Vivian said, "until we get the petition signed on the dotted line ... you should try to find a reason to keep her hospitalized."
Callie nodded. "That won’t be a problem."
"Are you absolutely certain that we’ll be able to do this with no problem?" Mark asked. "Because we’ll want to tell Jack and we can’t do that and get his hopes up unless we’re sure."
"Tell him," Vivian said, picking up her briefcase. "And give me *one* week instead of two."
"Thank you." Callie accepted the hug the woman gave her and walked her to the elevator.
When she returned to the glass window, Mark was watching Emily again. Callie reached down and laced her fingers through his. "Thank God our house has four bedrooms."
"We’ll have to take the computer to the basement. I’ll hire contractors to finish it. We need a playroom and an office." He gazed at Emily as she accepted a coloring book and crayons and leaned over, scribbling in the book. "She’s beautiful."
"She really is." Callie looked up at him. "We’re really doing this."
"We really are." He kissed her on the forehead. "Are you okay?"
"I’m fine. I’m just ... I woke up this morning thinking that we had one point five kids and now we have two point five."
"MOM! DAD!" Jack cried, barreling down the hallway. Mark leaned down to catch him and rose in time to see Sister Mary Hazel stalking toward them in his wake. "SAVE ME!"
"What did you do?" Mark asked in a low voice.
"Not a damn thing," Jack replied. "She wants to beat my ass for nothin’!"
The wiry nun stopped in front of Mark and crossed her arms. "This child could make me take back all of my vows ... every last one of them. Do you know what he’s done? No? I’ll tell you. One of the other kindergarten children, a little girl named Holly, brought a baby doll for show and tell and *your* son tried to ... put it in her belly."
"How?" Callie asked, aghast.
Mary Hazel’s eyes dropped to Callie’s pregnant bump. "Well, not the way you may be guessing, though nothing would surprise me at this point."
"Watch it," Callie told her, putting her hands on her hips. "Tell the story without the judgment or your vows will be the least of your problems."
"Violence! He comes by it honestly, I see." Mary Hazel clutched her rosary beads in her hand, waving them. "He lifted Holly’s shirt and tried to shove it through her belly button."
"Is she okay?" Mark questioned.
"She found it quite as amusing as this," Mary Hazel pointed at Jack, "devil child found it."
"It takes one to know one, horse face," Jack snapped. "You’re an evil old-"
"Jack!" Callie gave him her patented mom-face and he pouted handsomely, his lips pursed.
"Aren’t going to reprimand him?" Mary Hazel cried. "Did you hear what he-"
"You called him a name first," Callie shot back. "Devil child? That’s twice now that you’ve pissed *me* off and you’ve been here for three minutes."
"Unmarried filth. I shouldn’t have expected anything else. The wages of sin are easy to earn when -"
"The wages of sin is death," Callie replied. "And since it happens to us all ... unless you have the fountain of youth shoved up your tight ass ... I’d say that your just as shit out of luck as the rest of us."
"Ooooooh!" Jack called. "You gotta pay two dollars, Mom."
Mary Hazel gathered her skirt and turned in a huff, muttering under her breath. Callie watched her disappear into the elevator and looked at Mark, who was losing his battle with laughter. "Mark-"
"I told you that school -"
She grinned at him, then reached up and removed Jack’s tie. "Are you ready to try another school, kiddo?"
"Heck yes! One that ain’t go no -" His voice trailed off and he straightened in Mark’s arms, peering past Callie. "Em? Emily!?"
Because the door of the children’s ward was closed, Emily couldn’t hear her brother calling her. Callie watched as Jack pushed against Mark, struggling to get to his feet. He rushed to the window when Mark put him down, pulling himself up a little so he could see inside. A second later, he started to cry and dropped back to the floor, frantically pointing. The words wouldn’t come at all, but his face said everything effortlessly.
"We found her, buddy," Mark said, kneeling beside him.
Jack began to cry in earnest. He hugged Callie’s legs, then Mark, then fought with the doorknob. "Let me in!"
"Wait a second," Callie said gently, turning him around to face her. She squatted down in front of him, her leg muscles protesting the entire way. "We can’t take her home yet. She’ll be here for a few days like you were when you were hurt. Remember?"
"I want her," Jack sobbed. "Please!? Please!?"
Mark tugged the little boy into his arms and rubbed his back. "She’ll be home soon, but not today. She is coming, though."
"Don’t cry, sweetie," Callie soothed her son, pushing his bangs off his forehead. "You might scare her and you don’t want to do that."
"Is she sick?" Jack turned and looked at his mother, drying his eyes the way she had asked him to. He sniffled and stood on his tiptoes to see into the ward again. "What’s wrong with her?"
"She’s not sick. She hurt her hand, but it’s not broken," Callie replied. "She’s got a bandage wrapped around it, though, so be very careful that you don’t hurt her."
"And her face has a cut like the one your mom had that time." Mark took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "But -"
"She’s still pretty. Like mom was, right?" Jack’s breathing hitched. "I’ll be careful. I promise."
Mark got to his feet and reached for Callie, but it was Jack who grabbed her hand and tugged her upright. Mark helped by gripping just above her elbow and he smiled when she moaned. "Not quite as agile as you once were, huh?" he asked playfully.
"I think I proved otherwise in the car this morning," she shot back.
"LET’S GO!" Jack screeched.
Callie put the code in the door and swung it opened. Emily looked up, throwing the crayon she was holding into the air. "JACK!"
"EM!"
They met halfway, their arms tangling as they tried to hug every inch of each other. Both children were crying, both were talking at once, and then Jack was kissing his sister’s face and her hand and telling her that he had missed her. Emily clung to him, shaking, and when she looked at Callie, she whispered, "Your mom is crying, Jack."
"*Our* mom," he whispered back. "I told you we’d adopt you, too. I promised, 'member? We're taking you home real soon."
"You are!?" Emily screamed. She broke away from Jack and ran toward Callie. Mark intercepted her and it suited the little girl just fine. She kissed him again and again on the cheek, then reached for Callie.
Mark tried to prevent Callie from taking her, but it was no use. She scooped her from his arms, frowning at how light she was, and held onto her. Jack stood a few feet away, grinning from ear to ear. When Mark held out his hands, he raced forward and hugged him with all of his strengh, then he put an arm around Emily for good measure.
At the window, Cristina wiped her eyes and accepted a tissue from Bailey, who noisily blew her nose. "They’re Brangelina! That's so gross!"
"What?" Bailey asked.
"You know, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. They adopted Maddox, then Zahara, then they had Shiloh, who is theirs. And then they adopted Pax, who-"
"Girl, don’t jump ahead. Theirs is still on the way!" Bailey put an arm around Cristina and squeezed. "You big softie, Yang."
Cristina sobbed, trying to mask it as a laugh. "I’m not soft. We just don’t get to see many miracles in our lifetime and -"
"We’re *doctors*. We’re miracle workers with better pay," Bailey told her.
Smiling through her tears, Cristina shook her head. "Medical miracles don’t even compare to this. This is *better* that heart surgery."
Bailey watched her for a few seconds before she looked back at Callie with dawning comprehension. "You - you were really in love with her, weren’t you?"
Cristina shrugged. "I was in love with the idea of her. Now I’m in love with the whole family and I’m just grateful to be a part of it."
"You are a big softie."
"Don’t tell."
"Hell, aren’t all bisexuals soft?"
"Are you bi?"
"Walking away now."
Cristina smiled as Bailey disappeared around the corner and when she turned her attention back to Callie and the others, Jack was standing in a chair on the other side of the glass. He motioned for her to come in, pressing his lips to the window. She tapped his nose and put the code in.
She met Emily and when the little girl held up her arms to her ... she knew that she was a goner.
She had to steal some of Callie’s tissue before all was said and done.
*~*~*~*~*~
THAT MADE ME CRY! I'M A BLUBBERING IDIOT!
Did you cry, too?
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Pairing: Mark/Callie and other canon pairings
Rating: NC17
Summary: After Callie miscarries, she finds love in an unexpected place with someone who can't really tie his shoes yet.
A/N: Well, this is my favorite chapter so I feel a lot better about it than the last one. Angst, smut, and happiness AHOY! I'm SOOOOO excited. I hope y'all like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (well, parts of it anyway... )
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
*~*~*~*~*~
"So, have you set a date yet?" Chief Webber asked Mark.
They were working together on a construction worker who had fallen three stories. Webber was only getting started on repairing the internal damage, but Mark was already putting sutures in place on the man’s face. Smiling, Mark shook his head. "We almost did it yesterday. We took Jack to the park and drove past the courthouse. She said we could stop, but ... you know ... I’m still hoping that she’ll plan a wedding and invite people."
"I’m sure she has her reasons why she doesn’t want to do that."
Mark concentrated on the worst of the laceration, frowning slightly as he attempted to keep the scarring minimal. A second later, the door flew open and he almost gave the patient a brand new cut. Scowling, he glanced up at the intruder. "Well, well. If it isn’t ‘Butch Cassidy’. What do we owe the pleasure, Indigo Girl?"
"It’s Callie." Cristina’s hands were shaking as she held her mask in place. "She collapsed. She’s in the clinic."
Chief Webber cleared his throat. "Dr. Yang, scrub in and take over for Dr. Sloan. Mark, go."
Cristina hurried back through the door and grabbed the soap. Mark joined her, snatching off his gloves. "What happened?" he snapped. "What -"
"McDeaver committed suicide this morning," Cristina replied, rubbing her flesh so hard that it stung. "It was all over the news and she saw it. I - I tried to catch her before she hit the ground, but I didn’t make it. She hit her head on one of the tables in the waiting room and -"
"How bad is it?" he asked as he stripped off his surgical gear.
"She’ll need stitches." Cristina rinsed her arms and looked up at him. "I know that you hate me right now, but can you please send someone to update me? I - for the first time in my life ... I don’t want to operate. I want to be there."
Mark nodded, his eyes on hers. In the time that he had known Yang, he had never seen her so close to tears. "Yeah, I’ll keep you posted."
"Thank you."
Hurrying from the room, Mark almost busted his ass. He reached down and yanked off his shoe covers. So much for the theory that they were non-skid. Chucking them into the trash, he punched the elevator button, but an eternity seemed to pass so he used the stairwell instead. He practically jumped down each set of steps and when he finally burst through the clinic doors, there was a small crowd milling around that consisted entirely of doctors and a handful of nurses. He didn’t have to wonder who was behind the closed curtains. It was something they did, the hospital family. When one of them was hurt ... they grouped together in defiance that sickness or tragedy would dare strike one of them.
Meredith stepped forward and took his hand. "She’s not awake yet."
"The head injury?" he asked.
"It’s not severe," Meredith replied. "It’s superficial and Derek’s actually stitching her up."
"Derek can’t stitch!" Mark snapped, trying to push past Meredith, but she put her hands on his chest and shook her head. He looked down at her. "Is there something else?"
"She’s spotting. Not a lot, but enough. We’ve called Addison and -"
Mark moved around her with such force that she jumped out of the way. He pushed aside the curtain and almost tripped over his own feet. Callie was pale. Her face had been haphazardly wiped ‘clean’ but there was drying blood around her nose and on her chin. Derek had stitched the small cut on her temple and was currently checking her pupils. He didn’t look at Mark when he said, "You need to wait outside."
"Not happening." Mark leaned down and brushed Callie’s hair off her forehead, studying her closely. His heart did somersaults in his chest when he felt how cold and clammy her skin was. "She’s sweating."
"Her blood pressure was pretty high," Dr. Bailey told him. "We think it’s a one time thing brought on by stress, however, and not an underlying problem. We’re waiting on some blood work to check her insulin levels as well."
"And the baby?"
Bailey flipped a switch behind her and the sounds of the baby’s heartbeat filled the small area. The low conversation on the other side of the curtain ceased entirely. Mark could have sunk to the floor with relief, but he leaned his head against Callie’s, whispering softly in her ear instead. A moment later, her eyelids fluttered open and her hand went protectively to her stomach. "Mark-"
"It’s okay." He laid his hand on top of hers. "You hear that? The baby’s fine. How do you feel?"
"What happened?" She cried out in pain when he shifted, no longer blocking the light. It hurt all the way through her head.
"This will help," Derek said, putting a cool cloth over her eyes. "Callie, can you answer a few questions for me? I need to hear your response so that I’ll know your brain is -"
Callie massaged her brow through the cloth. "Two and two is four. It’s Thursday. We have an alleged president called Bush and you’re probably going to hold up three fingers and ask me to confirm that."
"She’s good," Derek said, smiling at Mark.
"Tell me about it." Mark glanced up when a gray haired man pushed the curtain aside and nodded at them.
"Hello, Callie," the elderly man said, putting a hand on her leg.
"Paul?" Callie lifted one side of the cloth and peered at him. It was a move she immediately regretted and she quickly shut her eyes. "What are you-"
"I was here to visit a friend and heard about what happened to you. Would you like me to take a look?" Paul asked gently. "I’d be happy to help."
"Is something wrong with the baby?" Callie sat up so fast that the cloth dropped into her lap. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she grabbed hold of the bed to anchor herself. The nausea came next and it took everything in her to swallow back the bile that rose in her throat. "Oh ... god."
"You have a mild concussion." Derek eased her back against the bed. "It’s better for you to stay on your back for a little while. Okay?"
"But the baby-"
"I’ll take care of it," Paul assured her. The old man smiled at Mark and said, "Callie has replaced both of my hips and my rotator cuff. She keeps this old skeleton up and running so coming out of retirement is the least I can do."
Paul Sheffield had been the premiere west coast ob/gyn in his day. Rapidly approaching eighty years old, he was still agile and graceful as he performed the examination on Callie. He spoke at length with Mark, telling him everything that he found. He finally concluded that the baby was fine and the spotting was nothing more than a cervical irritation that could have been brought on by heavy lifting or intercourse.
Mark looked away guiltily. He had woken Callie up that morning by going down on her and the sex that ensued had been adventurous enough to cause one of the slats to fall out from under the bed. When the old man left and Callie was wheeled to a private room for observation, Mark followed along beside her, saying nothing. He was mentally exhausted and ashamed of himself for not being more careful with her. That would change.
Unfortunately, the television was on in the room and Callie glanced at it when they mentioned McDeaver. She had apparently forgotten because she sat up again, shocked, and this time she ignored the dizziness completely. Mark flipped the television off and joined her on the bed. "You heard what Derek said. You need to lie still for a while."
She gazed at the blank TV, holding her ground when he tried to urge her against the pillow. "Turn it back on."
"No, baby."
"It’s my fault." Her chin trembled when she finally looked at Mark. "I told him to kill himself. I even told him how to do it. He - he’s Jack’s *father* and I -"
"*I* am Jack’s father." Mark rubbed her leg. "Callie, listen to me ... you have to stay calm. You have to think about the baby."
"How will I tell Jack?"
"He never has to know," Mark replied, reaching up to wipe the tears off her face. "Please don’t do this. You need to relax. Your body is already stressed from the pregnancy and your blood pressure was way too high. So, think about the fact that there won’t be a trial now."
"BECAUSE I TOLD HIM TO KILL HIMSELF!" she sobbed. "I DID IT!"
"People kill themselves because they’re cowards. This has nothing to do with you."
"Eighth grade," she said, fresh tears running down her face. "Someone put a note in my locker telling me to kill myself and not to wait for the cancer to do it. They told me to cut my wrists and I tried. I tried to do it in the garage so the mess could be cleaned up easily, but my parents came home and caught me. They called me a coward, too, but being dead was better than being terrified to live. I shouldn’t have said that to him, Mark. I know how it felt! His blood is on me now and -"
"Stop this." Mark hugged her. She had told him few details about her childhood and as she trembled in his arms, he didn’t have to wonder why. He had envisioned many scenarios in his head based on what little she had shared, but the reality was a million times worse. "They’re going to sedate you if you keep this up and you know that it could hurt the baby. There are side effects with the growth and development of the fetus at this stage and-"
She leaned back and looked at him, angrily swiping at the tears on her face. "Stop doing that!"
"Stop doing what?"
"I *know* what will hurt the baby. You act like I would intentionally do something and -"
"No. No, I don’t." Mark looked at the wound on her temple. "I’m just a man, Callie, I can’t imagine what it feels like to carry a baby, but I’m also a doctor. So you’ll have to forgive me if I slip into doctor mode when it comes to you and our child."
"I don’t need a doctor right now, Mark. I just told you something about *me* that I’ve never told anyone and you didn’t even acknowledge it."
"What do you want me to say? I’m sorry that kids were cruel to you, but there comes a point where you just ... get over it. Your past has nothing to do with what’s going on right now. No one is telling you to hurt yourself ... instead I’m sitting here begging you not to."
"You’re not concerned about me!" she cried. "Don’t pretend that you are. Ever since you found out that I’m pregnant you have become an overbearing ass. You tell me where I can go, what I can do, what I can eat -"
"Someone has to!" he shouted. "You don’t take care of yourself! If you had listened to me and not gone to the prison to begin with -"
"HOW DARE YOU!?"
"I DARE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"
"No, you dare because I’m the incubator that you can’t keep under your thumb!"
"Callie-"
"Get out."
"Let’s get something straight," he snapped. "I’m not the bad guy here. I’m worried. I’m worried because you had a miscarriage and you’re under a lot of strain right now. I don’t think you could handle losing another baby and I know that I couldn’t handle losing either one of you."
"I’m not having this conversation."
"Don’t you ever accuse me of treating you like an incubator or ... or not caring for you. In case you knocked the memory out earlier ... I asked you to marry me before you got pregnant. You only said yes because you are."
"That is not true!"
"Like hell it’s not! You got pregnant and it scared you and -"
"I said yes because you were browbeating me over Cristina!"
"Then give me back the ring!"
She snatched it off and threw it at him. "Leave! I always knew you would! It’s what men do! Just like I said!"
The door opened and Bailey stepped into the room. Judging by the look on her face, she had heard the shouting. Instead of mentioning it, she quietly took Callie’s blood pressure and shook her head. "It’s climbing again. Lean forward a little, Cal."
Callie did as she was told and gasped when Bailey crawled into the bed behind her. "What are -"
"You just breathe," Bailey told her, rubbing her back. She increased the pressure after a few seconds, deeply massaging the stiff muscles in the other woman’s shoulders. "I had hypertension when I was pregnant. I couldn’t take anything for it, but this helped. It always helped. Tucker has the best hands for massaging ... and he never raised his voice."
Mark had to look away from the evil look that Bailey was giving him. For the first time in his life, he felt like a scared intern who had just broken every hospital rule. And she was the Chief Resident, the Nazi, who could get him kicked out of the program. "I’m sorry, Callie," he whispered. "I don’t mean to -"
"No talking!" Bailey snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. "If you want to stay in here you keep your mouth shut, Sloan!"
"Okay."
Closing her eyes, Callie concentrated on her breathing. A second later, Mark took her hand and she clung to him, feeling the tension begin to leave her body.
She was fast asleep by the time Addison arrived, curled on her side with her ring free hand under her cheek.
*~
"Reiki?"
"Reiki." Pete crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at Mark. "Do you have a better idea?"
"I’ve never heard of it. What the hell is it?" Mark stood a little taller so that he had a couple of inches on the other man. "Will it hurt her?"
"No more than she’s already been hurt." Pete raised a brow to remind Mark that he had just left Callie’s room, where she was filling Addison in on *everything*. "You may need it as well ... when Addison gets done with you."
"What *is* it?" Mark repeated through clenched teeth.
"It’s a Japanese technique that helps with stress reduction, relaxation, and promotes healing." Pete shifted his bag on his shoulder. "It will take me about ninety minutes. Make sure we’re not interrupted."
"I can’t do that. I’ll be there for it."
"That’s not advisable, actually." Pete shook his head. "I don’t think she’ll relax with you in the room."
"And why is that?"
"Because she just called you every name I’ve ever heard and then she repeated them in Spanish." With a shrug, Pete took a step back toward Callie’s door. "Whatever you did -"
"Don’t you worry about what I did," Mark snapped. "Which was nothing!"
"Ninety minutes," Pete said, disappearing into her room.
Mark slumped against the wall, crossing his ankles. He had left the hospital long enough to pick up Jack at the school. It had felt awful to lie to his son and tell him that Callie was performing surgery. Jack had asked to go into the viewing deck to wave hello, but Mark had distracted the child with candy in the vending machine, buying him two of his favorite kinds. When he had left him in the nursery, Jack was happily working on his homework while Tuck looked on.
"You look about as bad as you should," Bailey told him, coming to a stop beside him. "How in the hell can you scream at a woman who -"
"Miranda, please. Not right now."
"She was going to tell you yes before she found out she was pregnant. She told me on Christmas night that she didn’t mean to say no." Bailey slumped down into a chair and nodded at the one beside her. "Don’t forget that I was in the hallway when you browbeat her into agreeing to marry you, Sloan. You were holding the Yang thing over her head and making it seem like she had to choose between the two of you."
Mark sat down, his head in his hands. "I told her the only reason she said yes was because she was pregnant."
"I heard that too. This whole floor did."
"She thinks I only care about the baby." He looked over at her. "Do you know how that feels?"
"Probably as bad as she feels."
Callie’s door opened and Mark got to his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets when Addison walked out carrying the chart. His fingers ached to grab it and see her lab results for himself. "Well?"
"Number one, you’re an asshole. Number two, you’re an asshole who needs to be smacked and number three, how in the *hell* could you make her give you the ring back?" Addison drew back to punch his arm, but Bailey beat her to it. "Thank you, Miranda."
"Ow!" Mark cried, grabbing his bicep. He moved out of the small woman’s range. "How is she?"
"How do you think she is?!" Addison bellowed. "You spineless dick! Gutless-"
"I *know*," he snapped. "Can you try to be professional and tell me what the prognosis is!?"
"Her prognosis is fine. The baby’s prognosis is fine. You ... on the other hand ... you need a lobotomy."
Miranda’s pager went off and she excused herself, leveling Mark with a glare that was still on her face when the elevator doors closed. Mark looked at Addison and sat back down, his shoulders slumped. "You don’t understand everything that -" he began.
"No, you don’t understand." Addison sat beside him, moving her chair several inches away. "Callie and I had a lot of talks before you. Hell, before George. We became friends while all the guys ... no, while all the *cool* guys ... were on that camping trip that hurt Walter. You remember? You weren’t invited."
"Let’s play ‘kick Mark while he’s down’, shall we?"
"Turnabout’s fair play." Addison laid the chart in her lap. "She told you about the cancer, but I don’t think she told you that her mother blamed her for it. Like it was something she caused, something she wanted. Her mom was a drama queen who didn’t really like having a daughter. She felt like she had to compete with Callie and nothing Callie did was right."
"That hasn’t changed."
"I know. That’s why you’re an asshole for treating her the way her parents do. They treat her like she’s stupid, like she can’t think for herself. They accuse her of things that are so outlandish and ridiculous that it hurts her." Addison took a deep breath. "Because of that, because of the cancer and the abuse she took off her classmates, she closes people off. George was the first person she ever let her guard down with and he destroyed her. She’s scared, Mark.
"She has a son who was abused and his biological father just died. She’s carrying a baby in a spot that was left vacant by another baby ... a baby that she wanted, that she loved and needed. George had left her, her family was pissed at her for the marriage falling apart and when that baby died ... parts of her died with it. And it’s been over a year now, but her brain, her body, doesn’t know that. Her body was carrying a baby and her brain wanted it. Just because the baby died ... it doesn’t mean that she let go of that.
"So, even though it’s been a while since she lost her baby ... she is still mourning it. She loves your baby, Mark. She loves you, but I don’t think she can let her hopes get built up right now because I think she believes that this baby won’t make it. She’s bleeding like clockwork every month, she has no side effects, no morning sickness or *anything*. So I don’t think it’s as real for her as it will be when she starts to show." Addison reached out and touched his hand. "And the Cristina thing ... it’s harmless. I had a crush on Callie, too."
Mark looked at her, speechless for several seconds. "Fuck! All this time I’ve been thinking I need to kick every man’s ass who gets near her, but it’s the women I need to worry about."
"You don’t need to worry at all. She adores you."
"She hasn’t told me much about her past. Just that ... you know ... her classmates were mean to her and suggested that she kill herself."
"They also tried to kill her. Not literally, but figuratively. They spit at her, they’d tug her wig off, they’d beat her, kick her. They cut the tires on her car and bashed the headlights. They burned her with cigarettes. They locked her in a closet and she’d cut herself so that the pain would be tangible and not inside." Addison regarded him. "You’re shocked. You didn’t think it was that bad?"
"No." He shook his head. "I thought it was the normal stuff that kids do to each other. Why did they - why her?"
"She was rich and they were jealous. Then it wasn’t about the money. Her brother ... the one who is just a year younger than her ... he took their dad’s car out for a joyride and wound up killing two football players who were tossing the ball in the road. He was only fourteen at the time and Callie was fifteen. She was sick with the cancer by then and she was supposed to be in charge, but she couldn’t because the chemo made her so sick that she lived in front of the toilet. Her parents blamed her. And Gustav, her brother, went to juvenile home and since he was the first born son ... her parents blamed her."
"How could she not tell me this?"
"Because you’re the guy who tells someone to ‘get over it’ when they try."
Leaning his head back against the wall, Mark rubbed the tears out of his eyes. "You think a dozen roses will be enough?"
"She hates roses."
"So ... wildflowers?"
"She likes stargazer lilies. The florist beside the Archfield has them year round."
"Right." He got to his feet and rubbed his palms over his jeans. They were sweating profusely. "I’ll be back by the time he’s finished doing rapey or whatever his voodoo is."
"It’s called Reiki and it works. He does it to me all the time."
Mark’s nostrils flared. "I don’t want him doing anything to her that he does to you! Addison, go in there and -"
"You’re being an asshole again."
"Fine." He gave her a one fingered salute and headed for the elevator.
Cristina was standing inside with her hands on her hips. "Thanks for keeping me posted, Sloan."
"Shit. I forgot." He caught her arm when she started to exit the lift. "Want to go on an errand with me?"
"I want to go see Callie."
"Pete’s doing Reiki right now."
"He’s doing what?"
"Don’t ask. It’s Japanese. You should know about that."
"I’m *Korean*, but I can’t even pretend to be shocked that you just assume that every Asian person is Japanese. I guess I have it coming since I think that every male plastic surgeon is in it to look at boobs and naked women."
He hit the button to close the doors. "This is me extending the olive branch!"
She leaned back against the wall. "Where are we going?"
"To buy Callie flowers."
"God, I’m in hell."
"So am I. Thanks for the company."
*~*~*~*~*~
By the time Pete finished the Reiki treatment, Callie was a believer. There was no tension in her body and the pain in her head was completely gone. When he helped her to the bathroom, she experienced no dizziness or nausea from getting to her feet and she was smiling from ear to ear when she returned to the bed. He explained that he would be able to send Reiki to her from Los Angeles and she nodded, so relaxed that she couldn’t speak. He patted her leg and excused himself, leaving the room
Addison grinned at her, taking her hand. "Feels orgasmic, huh?"
Callie shook her head. "Nothing feels that good."
"Slut," Addy replied, sitting beside her. "So, the good news is your blood pressure is back down. The bad news is that you’re anemic so we’ll need to change your vitamins and get you more iron."
"Thanks for coming all this way. You didn’t have to. Paul Sheffield examined me and -"
"THE Paul Sheffield? Callie!"
"He came out of retirement for me."
"Oh my god. I *need* to meet him."
"He’s living at the Whispering Pines Rest Home. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to have a visitor." She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. "Where’s Mark?"
"I think he ran out to get Jack some dinner."
"When can I go home?"
"Well, Derek has you under observation for twenty four hours. That lick you took was no laughing matter." Reaching up, Addison gingerly touched the bruise on her temple. "You’ll have a shiner, I think, but since you still wear your eyeliner like a raccoon no one will notice."
Callie laughed at her. "I miss you."
"I miss you, too."
There was a light knock on the door and Cristina walked in. She carried a pink bakery box in her hands and was beaming. "Turtle cheesecake. Your favorite."
Addison got to her feet and said, "I’ll leave you two alone and -"
"Are you kidding?" Cristina replied. "I brought three forks."
"Count me in." Addison accepted the plastic fork and raised the head of Callie’s bed. Cristina pulled up the rolling table and sat down across from Callie. Addison sat beside her and smiled when the younger woman pulled the cheesecake out of the box. ‘Get Well, Iphigenia Vagina’ was written on the top. "I’ve never had vagina pie."
"Vagina *is* pie." Cristina smiled when Callie dug in. "Mark stopped calling me all variations of ‘Butch’, by the way."
"He did?" Callie raised a brow. "What does that leave?"
"He’s calling me ‘stina, which I’ll let him do if it means that he gives up on the lesbian references." Cristina took a huge bite of the cheesecake. "Besides, I have a date with Chief Webber this weekend."
Callie and Addison both choked on their cake. "What!?" they mumbled together.
"Look, it wasn’t planned," Cristina replied. "I was forced to perform surgery in Sloan’s place and apparently Sloan had agreed to feed him lines to woo some random nurse. And ... well, Webber became a bumbling idiot. I swear, he wasn’t even speaking a language. It was grunts and spasms. But, I got the gist of it and reminded him that we already had plans. He was so grateful he almost cried."
"Are you really going out with him?" Callie asked.
"We’re going to see ‘Disney on Ice’," she replied with a shrug. Looking back and forth between the two women, she wrinkled her nose. "Okay, now I have NO secrets. I like Disney. I like figure skating. And ... well, I’m *bisexual* so men in tights and women who spin and show their ass? That’s my kinda date."
"Plus ... he’s the Chief." Callie took another bite.
"There is that."
"Power whore."
"I’ve pretty much reverted to form."
"Plus, once you go black -" Addison began.
"It was too tacky for me to say it," Callie interjected.
"I confirm it," Cristina supplied. "Though I will not be sleeping with the Chief."
They all looked at one another and burst out laughing then they ate so much of the cheesecake that all three of them were miserable when Mark arrived. Addison and Cristina quickly gathered the cake and made themselves scarce. Callie tilted her head to one side, staring at the biggest bouquet of flowers she had ever seen. Mark held it in front of him and the stalks still almost rubbed the ceiling.
He waited until Addison shut the door before he set the flowers on the table. "I’m sorry."
Callie smiled a little, staring straight up. "Nothing says I’m sorry like a centerpiece that would be too big for the Governor’s mansion."
"I had to leave my car at the florist and walk this thing back here. It wouldn’t fit." He leaned down and kissed her, lingering over her lips. "How do you feel?"
"I’m ready to go home. Addison said that Derek wants to keep me overnight and - well, I don’t want to stay."
"I’m staying with you. That may not be the best news you’ve heard, but ... I’m not going anywhere, baby."
"That’s actually the best news I heard all day." She reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers. "I don’t want to fight with you anymore."
He kissed her again. "Me either. I need you to understand something though."
"Mark-"
"I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. You’re the reason I was put here. I don’t have faith in many things, but I have faith in you. I know that you’d never hurt this baby or ... me." He trailed his thumb down her cheek. "If I have ever made you think that you’re just an ... incubator ... then clearly I don’t show you enough what you mean to me and that’s my fault. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again."
"I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, too."
"I’m not finished." He kissed her again when her face fell. "You shouldn’t ‘get over it’. Your past, I mean. I want to hear it all, even the horrible parts, because I want to know how you became who you are today. Because who you are amazes me. I won’t dismiss it again, Callie. I may get pissed as hell on your behalf, but I want to hear it anyway."
"One day," she replied. "I’ll tell you everything."
"But not today?"
"Not today." She watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. "Not today for that either."
"Baby, I didn’t mean-"
"When I wear that ... I don’t want either one of us to have any doubts *why*."
"I don’t ... do you have ... Callie, don’t have doubts."
"I promise you that I will marry you. Just ... not yet."
"Please? Wear it. We can have a long engagement or -"
"Not *today*." Callie hugged him, her nose very close to one of the lilies. The smell, something that she usually loved, was suddenly cloying and overwhelming. She pulled away, cupping her hand over her nose. "Oh god."
"What’s wrong?"
"I’m gonna be -"
And just like that, she leaned to one side and threw up in the floor. When she had emptied her stomach of the cheesecake and sat back up, her eyes were watering from the intensity of her sickness.
Mark rushed into the bathroom and wet a cloth, rubbing her face. "Are you -"
"I’m *pregnant*," she replied with an enormous grin. Something flashed across her face and she laid a hand on her belly. "And those flowers really, really stink."
He picked up the bouquet, hurried across the room, and opened the door. Addison was standing just outside and she took the flowers without a word. "Can you page housekeeping?" he asked.
"She’s sick?"
"The smell got to her."
"I thought it might." Addison smiled knowingly. "And she’s happy?"
"She is."
"My work is done. I should charge you double."
*~*~*~*~*~
Three weeks after being released from the hospital, sex was killing Callie. Rather, lack of sex was killing Callie. Mark had taken it upon himself to decide that too much of a good thing was ... too much of a good thing and actually Turned. Her. Down. several times. He finally informed her that their sex life was the culprit in her spotting and when they did make love ... he was slow and easy and so aggravating that Callie found herself with her own hand in her panties more often than not.
Her heightened sense of smell wasn’t the only new pregnancy symptom she found herself dealing with. Her hormones were all over the place and she craved sex every waking moment. So, after they dropped Jack off at school on a Monday and headed back home to enjoy their off day, she put her plan into action. He was exhausted and sleepily returned to bed, throwing his hands over his head as he stretched out beneath the cover. She seized the moment and cuffed his wrists to the headboard.
When he looked at her with wide eyes, there was no sign of his fatigue. "What are you -"
"I’m *pregnant*," she told him. "I’m *pregnant* and you have forced me to go to the sex shop to buy handcuffs."
"I can see that." He rattled the cuffs and sighed. "Okay, very funny. Take them off and -"
"Mark, I need sex. I need the kind of sex that we’re famous for. Dirty and *painful*. I need it to be so dirty and so *hard* that -"
"No." He shook his head. "As soon as you have this baby and we live celibate for six weeks ... I will *fuck* you until you can’t close your legs, but until then we’re gonna take it easy."
"I will *die* if you don’t stop this." She grabbed the waistband of his boxer briefs and tried to slide them down, but he pressed his backside into the bed, holding them on. "I was prepared for this, Sloan."
"For wh-"
She picked up a pair of scissors and took advantage of his shock to quickly cut one side of his underwear open. Smiling, she dropped the scissors into the floor and pulled her shirt over her head. She was not wearing a bra and when she stood to push her pants down, she knew that Mark was following her every move. In the short span of time that she had cut off his boxers, his cock had gone from lying against his stomach to standing full at attention and she grinned when she climbed back onto the bed.
Mark lifted his knees when she started to straddle him. "Callie, this was really cute and really amusing, but -"
Leaning down, she took him in her mouth and he bucked upward. His legs fell back to the bed and she seized the opportunity to move between them, letting her hair skim over the tight muscles of his thighs. Gripping him tightly in her hand, she pumped him hard, sucking and nipping until he warned her that he was going to come if she didn’t stop. With a smile, she slid up his body and started to lower herself onto his cock, but he shook his head.
"Sit on my face."
"Niiice." She pulled the pillow from under his head and eased his hands further down the brass pole of the headboard, which she held onto as she did as he requested.
He was not gentle or easy as he attacked her aching flesh. She fell back, her hands on his chest as his tongue did things to her that left her head spinning. He shifted a little, gazing up at her. "Take the cuffs off."
"Nope," she panted. "Don’t stop."
"Take them off so I can touch you."
"You are touching me."
"I’ll stop." He gave her a look that meant business so she pushed herself upright and unlocked the cuffs with the key she had left on the edge of the bed. "If you don’t make me scream ... I swear to God -"
He pulled her back to his mouth and roughly shoved two fingers into her, curling them. She cried out and when he latched onto her clit, her fingers dug into the headboard. He brought her to the edge time and time again only to deny her at the last possible minute. She gripped his hair when he tried to prolong it further and held him in place. Feeling him laugh against her was enough. It vibrated in just the right spot and she got her wish.
She screamed.
Mark didn’t give her much time to enjoy the orgasm. He sat up, forcing her to fall back against the bed. She screeched when his fingers returned to her wet center, this time three instead of two, and he sucked her nipple. When she felt his teeth, she arched her back and he slid his hand under her, flipping her onto her stomach.
He kissed her the small of her back, licking a path up and down her spine as she wriggled beneath him. Without warning, he slapped her on the ass and grinned when her hand flew to cover it. He slapped the other cheek, then bit the rounded globe as he pulled her to her knees. When he slammed into her, his fingers bit into her hips so hard that it hurt *him* so he had no doubt that it was exactly what she wanted.
Callie liked it rough.
She liked to wear the scratches and bruises of their coupling like a badge of honor.
Pulling her upright, he yanked her hair to one side and sucked on her neck, leaving a hickey there the size of a silver dollar. He continued to nibble as his hand moved lower, back to her center where he rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand guided her to and fro as he slammed into her with everything he had.
"Oh.. fuck..." she cried. Her hands dug into his as she got off again.
He let her ride the waves of that one for a few moments.
But just a few.
When he pulled back and drove into her again, it was hard enough to knock her forward. She gripped handfuls of the bedclothes as his hips pumped at a frenetic pace. He came with a growl of her name, tangling his hand in her hair. Leaning down, he kissed her back again, forcing her down against the cover.
The friction of the comforter against her clit pushed her over the edge again and she found her release for the third time. He chuckled against her neck as she clamped around him. His lust was renewed and he knew that they would not be enjoying a morning nap.
He barely moved as he lifted the handcuffs from the pillow and slipped them onto her wrists. "My turn."
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie didn’t start to show until the latter part of her fifth month and even then it was barely noticeable. She recovered *almost* completely from the fall. The only lasting side effect was her refusal to wear the engagement ring again. Mark asked her daily and she shook her head every time, whispering ‘not today’. Addison flew out every two weeks to monitor her friend’s progress and promised Callie that the pregnancy was progressing smoothly. Pete always came with her and always gave Callie ‘alternative’ treatments for her headaches, which were now occurring only after long surgeries.
The baby proved to be much less of a exhibitionist than its parents. It kept its legs firmly closed every single time they tried to determine the sex. Neither Mark nor Callie knew where the child got *that* from. Both of them were comfortable baring all at the drop of a hat. They got Jack involved in the name game and he suggested everything under the sun, including ‘Sun’ and ‘Moon’ and ‘Star’. When he decided to call his little brother or sister ‘Green Bean’, they bought a baby name book and read it to him every night.
As she began her sixth month, Callie’s back protested the extra weight and her boobs had gotten so big (which Mark loved) that she wore two sports bras because she was so self conscious. Her stomach was officially preceding her arrival into any room and her friends and co-workers had taken to rubbing it for luck before surgery. When she was paged to the clinic after a consult one day, she assumed that someone wanted to get their rub on. What she found was a little girl with tangled, ratty hair who was backed into the corner like a wild animal, lashing out at anyone who got near her.
"Possible wrist fracture," Miranda said, handing her a chart. "And her face needs stitches. I’ve paged Mark, too."
"Where’s her mother?"
"Outside smoking. Again."
Callie put the chart on the nearest table and glanced at the gaggle of interns who stood watching nearby. She pointedly gripped the curtain and closed it, blocking their view. Bailey stood just behind her and watched as she kneeled down. "Hi, sweetie. I’m Dr. Torres. What’s your name?"
"Lemme alone!"
"Can I take a look at your arm? I’m a doctor who fixes bones and -"
"You are?" the little girl asked, looking curious now. "Are you Callie?"
"Uhm ... yeah."
"You fixed my brother’s arm. Are you Jack’s mama now?"
Callie almost swallowed her tongue. "Are you Emily?"
"Uh huh. He told me all about you when you fixed him. Kept hurting hisself to come see you again."
"Did you hurt yourself?"
Emily shook her head, using her uninjured hand to push her brown hair out of her eyes. "Mean old Miss Pratt, the mama, she throwed a basket of clothes on me ‘cause I didn’t want to fold none. I hurted my arm on account of her so I told her she was a beaver faced bitch and she brung me here to keep from stranglin’ me. Least that’s what she said, the sow."
Callie smiled at the little girl, trying hard not to laugh. Emily was smaller than Jack by a long shot, but she had his spirit and speech patterns down to a science. Now that Callie could see the little girl’s face clearly, she could see the resemblance to Jack. They shared the same brown eyes, almond shaped and sparkling and their smiles were crooked and sweet. "Will you let me look at your arm, Emily?"
The girl nodded, then slowly walked toward Callie with her arm held out. "Don’t hurt me none," she whispered. "Please."
Callie made a move to pick her up.
"CALLIOPE TORRES!" Mark shouted. "YOU CANNOT DO *ANY* LIFTING AND -"
He trailed off when the child looked up at him with a look of reverence. "DOCTOR MARK!"
"Emily?" He kneeled down beside Callie and the little girl rushed into his arms so fast and with such force that it knocked him onto his back. He clung to her as he pushed himself upright and settled her on his leg. The cut on her cheek had started to bleed again and he frowned, looking at Callie. "What happened to her?"
"Apparently abuse doesn’t just happen at the group home," she replied, struggling to her feet. Bailey hurried forward and helped her. Callie put a hand on the small of her back as she did the pregnant waddle to the supply closet and grabbed what Mark would need to suture the little girl.
When Callie turned, she drew up short. Mark was cradling Emily against his chest and the child had both of her skinny arms around his neck. Callie met Mark’s eyes and took a deep breath. They had already talked about it at length. They had agreed that Jack needed his sister and vice versa. She was going to nod her confirmation before Miss Pratt stormed into the room and launched into a tirade at the little girl, but hearing it was all the prompting that she needed.
When the short, overweight woman wrenched the child from Mark’s arms and plopped her on the stretcher while announcing that they needed to ‘hurry the hell up’, Callie calmly put the supplies on the table and said, "The blow to her face was a significant one. She’ll need to stay here for a few days."
"What?!" Miss Pratt cried, glaring at the little girl. "Now look what you done! Well, I ain’t coming to see you until they let you go. I got too much on me as it is. You better not make them call me to tell me you’re acting up neither. You understand, girl?"
"Yes, ma’am," Emily replied, wringing her hands the same way Jack did.
The woman didn’t hug Emily or tell her goodbye. She paused only to cast an admiring look at Mark, who regarded her the same way a person would regard a cock roach in their soup. When they were alone, Emily looked at Callie and said, "Jack was right. You’re awful nice."
"How would you like a sucker?" Callie asked.
She would worry about dental care when the paperwork was officially signed.
*~
Three hours later, Emily had talked with the police and the same social worker who had helped Callie adopt Jack was on the scene. Vivian Morse rubbed Callie’s belly and smiled at her, politely inquiring about Jack. Callie made small talk and then asked the three million dollar question. "Why did your agency not tell us where she was? We’ve been calling every week to see if there was information on her yet."
"We were not prepared for what happened with McDeaver. So much of the paperwork was given to the police department as evidence." Vivian ran a hand over her weathered face. "And Emily is her middle name. She was filed under Gillian instead of Emily. Her last name didn’t match Jack’s, either. I’ve personally searched for her myself for you. I’m so sorry that it has taken so long."
"What will it take for us to adopt her?" Callie asked softly.
Vivian smiled. "Willingness. I went through her file when you called. That’s how I found out about her name. I had to locate her in Miss Pratt’s file. Emily’s on her sixth foster home since the group closed. She’s a great kid, but she’s damaged."
"We’re all damaged," Mark told her, his arm around Callie. "Our attorney said that since Jack is her only living relative we should be able to expedite the process. We don’t want her to go back into the system. At all."
With a nod, Vivian said, "Your attorney is correct. Since Callie has already adopted and we have all of her information already, I should be able to get through the red tape fairly quickly."
"How long?" Callie said.
"A week. Possibly two." Glancing down at Callie’s belly again, Vivian added, "Do you understand what you’re about to do? Emily does have behavioral problems and you’re bringing her into a family that will have a newborn in just a few short months. There could jealousy issues or anger and who knows how she’ll react."
"It’s a bridge we’re prepared to cross," Mark replied, looking through the glass window of the children’s ward where Emily was sitting on her bed. The little girl met his eyes and waved at him and he waved back, smiling because she did. "Is there anything we need to do?"
"I can’t release her into your custody because you’re not foster parents. So," Vivian said, "until we get the petition signed on the dotted line ... you should try to find a reason to keep her hospitalized."
Callie nodded. "That won’t be a problem."
"Are you absolutely certain that we’ll be able to do this with no problem?" Mark asked. "Because we’ll want to tell Jack and we can’t do that and get his hopes up unless we’re sure."
"Tell him," Vivian said, picking up her briefcase. "And give me *one* week instead of two."
"Thank you." Callie accepted the hug the woman gave her and walked her to the elevator.
When she returned to the glass window, Mark was watching Emily again. Callie reached down and laced her fingers through his. "Thank God our house has four bedrooms."
"We’ll have to take the computer to the basement. I’ll hire contractors to finish it. We need a playroom and an office." He gazed at Emily as she accepted a coloring book and crayons and leaned over, scribbling in the book. "She’s beautiful."
"She really is." Callie looked up at him. "We’re really doing this."
"We really are." He kissed her on the forehead. "Are you okay?"
"I’m fine. I’m just ... I woke up this morning thinking that we had one point five kids and now we have two point five."
"MOM! DAD!" Jack cried, barreling down the hallway. Mark leaned down to catch him and rose in time to see Sister Mary Hazel stalking toward them in his wake. "SAVE ME!"
"What did you do?" Mark asked in a low voice.
"Not a damn thing," Jack replied. "She wants to beat my ass for nothin’!"
The wiry nun stopped in front of Mark and crossed her arms. "This child could make me take back all of my vows ... every last one of them. Do you know what he’s done? No? I’ll tell you. One of the other kindergarten children, a little girl named Holly, brought a baby doll for show and tell and *your* son tried to ... put it in her belly."
"How?" Callie asked, aghast.
Mary Hazel’s eyes dropped to Callie’s pregnant bump. "Well, not the way you may be guessing, though nothing would surprise me at this point."
"Watch it," Callie told her, putting her hands on her hips. "Tell the story without the judgment or your vows will be the least of your problems."
"Violence! He comes by it honestly, I see." Mary Hazel clutched her rosary beads in her hand, waving them. "He lifted Holly’s shirt and tried to shove it through her belly button."
"Is she okay?" Mark questioned.
"She found it quite as amusing as this," Mary Hazel pointed at Jack, "devil child found it."
"It takes one to know one, horse face," Jack snapped. "You’re an evil old-"
"Jack!" Callie gave him her patented mom-face and he pouted handsomely, his lips pursed.
"Aren’t going to reprimand him?" Mary Hazel cried. "Did you hear what he-"
"You called him a name first," Callie shot back. "Devil child? That’s twice now that you’ve pissed *me* off and you’ve been here for three minutes."
"Unmarried filth. I shouldn’t have expected anything else. The wages of sin are easy to earn when -"
"The wages of sin is death," Callie replied. "And since it happens to us all ... unless you have the fountain of youth shoved up your tight ass ... I’d say that your just as shit out of luck as the rest of us."
"Ooooooh!" Jack called. "You gotta pay two dollars, Mom."
Mary Hazel gathered her skirt and turned in a huff, muttering under her breath. Callie watched her disappear into the elevator and looked at Mark, who was losing his battle with laughter. "Mark-"
"I told you that school -"
She grinned at him, then reached up and removed Jack’s tie. "Are you ready to try another school, kiddo?"
"Heck yes! One that ain’t go no -" His voice trailed off and he straightened in Mark’s arms, peering past Callie. "Em? Emily!?"
Because the door of the children’s ward was closed, Emily couldn’t hear her brother calling her. Callie watched as Jack pushed against Mark, struggling to get to his feet. He rushed to the window when Mark put him down, pulling himself up a little so he could see inside. A second later, he started to cry and dropped back to the floor, frantically pointing. The words wouldn’t come at all, but his face said everything effortlessly.
"We found her, buddy," Mark said, kneeling beside him.
Jack began to cry in earnest. He hugged Callie’s legs, then Mark, then fought with the doorknob. "Let me in!"
"Wait a second," Callie said gently, turning him around to face her. She squatted down in front of him, her leg muscles protesting the entire way. "We can’t take her home yet. She’ll be here for a few days like you were when you were hurt. Remember?"
"I want her," Jack sobbed. "Please!? Please!?"
Mark tugged the little boy into his arms and rubbed his back. "She’ll be home soon, but not today. She is coming, though."
"Don’t cry, sweetie," Callie soothed her son, pushing his bangs off his forehead. "You might scare her and you don’t want to do that."
"Is she sick?" Jack turned and looked at his mother, drying his eyes the way she had asked him to. He sniffled and stood on his tiptoes to see into the ward again. "What’s wrong with her?"
"She’s not sick. She hurt her hand, but it’s not broken," Callie replied. "She’s got a bandage wrapped around it, though, so be very careful that you don’t hurt her."
"And her face has a cut like the one your mom had that time." Mark took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "But -"
"She’s still pretty. Like mom was, right?" Jack’s breathing hitched. "I’ll be careful. I promise."
Mark got to his feet and reached for Callie, but it was Jack who grabbed her hand and tugged her upright. Mark helped by gripping just above her elbow and he smiled when she moaned. "Not quite as agile as you once were, huh?" he asked playfully.
"I think I proved otherwise in the car this morning," she shot back.
"LET’S GO!" Jack screeched.
Callie put the code in the door and swung it opened. Emily looked up, throwing the crayon she was holding into the air. "JACK!"
"EM!"
They met halfway, their arms tangling as they tried to hug every inch of each other. Both children were crying, both were talking at once, and then Jack was kissing his sister’s face and her hand and telling her that he had missed her. Emily clung to him, shaking, and when she looked at Callie, she whispered, "Your mom is crying, Jack."
"*Our* mom," he whispered back. "I told you we’d adopt you, too. I promised, 'member? We're taking you home real soon."
"You are!?" Emily screamed. She broke away from Jack and ran toward Callie. Mark intercepted her and it suited the little girl just fine. She kissed him again and again on the cheek, then reached for Callie.
Mark tried to prevent Callie from taking her, but it was no use. She scooped her from his arms, frowning at how light she was, and held onto her. Jack stood a few feet away, grinning from ear to ear. When Mark held out his hands, he raced forward and hugged him with all of his strengh, then he put an arm around Emily for good measure.
At the window, Cristina wiped her eyes and accepted a tissue from Bailey, who noisily blew her nose. "They’re Brangelina! That's so gross!"
"What?" Bailey asked.
"You know, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. They adopted Maddox, then Zahara, then they had Shiloh, who is theirs. And then they adopted Pax, who-"
"Girl, don’t jump ahead. Theirs is still on the way!" Bailey put an arm around Cristina and squeezed. "You big softie, Yang."
Cristina sobbed, trying to mask it as a laugh. "I’m not soft. We just don’t get to see many miracles in our lifetime and -"
"We’re *doctors*. We’re miracle workers with better pay," Bailey told her.
Smiling through her tears, Cristina shook her head. "Medical miracles don’t even compare to this. This is *better* that heart surgery."
Bailey watched her for a few seconds before she looked back at Callie with dawning comprehension. "You - you were really in love with her, weren’t you?"
Cristina shrugged. "I was in love with the idea of her. Now I’m in love with the whole family and I’m just grateful to be a part of it."
"You are a big softie."
"Don’t tell."
"Hell, aren’t all bisexuals soft?"
"Are you bi?"
"Walking away now."
Cristina smiled as Bailey disappeared around the corner and when she turned her attention back to Callie and the others, Jack was standing in a chair on the other side of the glass. He motioned for her to come in, pressing his lips to the window. She tapped his nose and put the code in.
She met Emily and when the little girl held up her arms to her ... she knew that she was a goner.
She had to steal some of Callie’s tissue before all was said and done.
*~*~*~*~*~
THAT MADE ME CRY! I'M A BLUBBERING IDIOT!
Did you cry, too?