(no subject)
Title: Gravity of Love: Major Arcana III
Authors: Sara (sweetnarcosis) and Calla (callalily_love). Credited in fic.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mark/Addison
Music: Enigma :: Gravity of Love
don't think twice before you listen to your heart
follow the trace for a new start
what you need and everything you feel
is just a question of the deal
in the eye of the storm you will see a lonely dove
the experience of survival is the key...
15: The Devil
sweetnarcosis
“How much longer do you think you can keep this up?” Mark stands on her front steps, his hands shoved in his coat pockets, eyes full of protective and angry concern.
Addison doesn’t make any effort to hide the vodka bottle in her hand. “Keep what up?” She blocks the doorway with her body and stands up as straight and as rigid as she can, which isn’t much since she’s been drinking for the last three hours.
He knows she can’t possibly put up any defense when she’s like this so he takes the last step up and his invasion of her personal space causes her to step backward into the brownstone, far enough that he can shut the door behind them. “Drinking every night. Chasing two Ambien with a shot of Grey Goose before bed. You’re a doctor, Addison, you know how bad of an idea that is.”
“I don’t care, Mark!” She explodes and gestures wildly, knocking a picture frame off the shelf. It falls to the ground with a thud and a sparkling crack of the glass. “He left! He’s all I had and he left! And he left because of you, Mark. If you hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t let me have that last glass of wine, if you hadn’t kissed me back, he would still be here.” She points at his chest with every you. “It’s your fault and you dare to judge me? Get the fuck out of my house!” She takes an emphatic drink straight from the bottle, the burning in her throat unnoticeable as the burning behind her eyes gets worse.
She is a doctor, she had to take at least one course in pharmacology and she has some common sense and knows enough to read warning labels and drug interactions so she knows that sleeping medication and alcohol is not a recommended combination. She wishes she could say that she’s numb and that she doesn’t feel anything at all because then she wouldn’t need to be doing this. She wouldn’t be driving down this particular self-destructive path if she could feel. But she feels too much and all she feels is pain and this is the only way she knows how to counteract the searing pain in her entire body. It’s the only way she had ever known until Derek came along and he became the replacement drug. With him gone, it’s back to the bottle. Both of them.
Mark reaches out and wrenches the bottle from her grasp and turns it upside down, pouring it into the pot of an already-dying plant by the front door. “This ends, Addison. This ends tonight.” He doesn’t hurt for her, he’s angry with her. She’s a smart and intelligent woman, and he knows that she knows better. He also knows that she doesn’t want to be doing this, that she doesn’t want to simply become another alcoholic divorcee. He knows this because he’s the one who caught her at it the first time in medical school.
“Good. Means you can get out of my...let me go!” Addison struggles against his arms as he effortlessly picks her up and carries her upstairs into bed. “I hate you. Just...” Her words trail off into noises of protest until he unceremoniously dumps her onto her bed. She clumsily scrambles away from him and tucks her knees under her chin. Despite her childish posture, her eyes burn into his with seething anger and her nostrils flare as she breathes deep and hard.
“Are you done being sixteen?” He stands at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed, anger shooting right back at her as he talks down to her. She opens her mouth to say something drunk and snappy but he cuts her off. “Good. Because I really don’t care how much you hate me right now...”
Suddenly, the full effects of the alcohol hit her and she begins to cry. Her shoulders slump and she curls up tighter in a ball. “I don’t hate you, Mark,” she looks up at him, still standing in front of her without even a hint of movement, “I really don’t and it’s not your fault that I’m stupid and kissed you when I’m married but please believe me that I don’t hate you because I really don’t want you to think that because you’re all...” She silences at a finger on her lips.
“Addison? Shut up.”
She sniffles and nods. “I’m sorry, Mark. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dragged you into this and I’m sorry that I said I hated you and I’m sorry I’m such a mess because you don’t need to deal with me too when you’ve got...”
“Shut up,” he says again and helps her fumble her way into his lap. “Shut up and cry.”
16: The Tower
sweetnarcosis
“I don’t care anymore,” she says, sipping elegantly at a glass of red wine. She watches the man at the other end of the dining room table for a reaction. She looks for recognition of some form in his eyes through the flickering candlelight.
“About what?” He picks up his fork and knife and cuts into the steak in front of him.
“This.” She gestures apathetically around her. “This life. It’s boring, it’s dull, it’s not going anywhere. And it’s so pathetic even I laugh at it now. I’m cried out. I can’t go on like this.” She spears a green bean and silently compliments herself on a job well done.
“Like what?” He’s impressed with dinner.
“Pretending like I care. Mark, my husband is supposed to be sitting across from me, not you. We got married ten years ago today and he didn’t say a word to me. I know he keeps his rings in the car because it’s too much effort for him to wear them during the two hours a day he isn’t in surgery. I’m an object for him.” She takes another sip of her wine and gently chews on a bite of steak done medium-rare.
“Addison, you are not...”
She shakes her head and swallows. “No, listen, I’ve thought about this. I don’t exist for him outside of this house. And, really, that’s a stretch sometimes. He ignores me at work, gets up earlier for the purpose of not having to car pool, he expects dinner of some form when he comes home - if he comes home - and I either lie there in bed wondering if he’s going to bother to touch me or I lie there in bed wondering why he’s bothering to touch me because it’s not any good. He didn’t even notice when I gave up trying. It was like he was relieved.”
He finishes his own glass of wine and looks across the candles lit for ceremonial purposes only at her. “What would make you feel better?”
“Decent sex.”
“Addison.”
“Mark.”
He drops his knife and fork onto his plate. “I know I said I’d do anything to make you happy, but I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Did I ask you to?”
“Actually, you did. Right there. Your eyes did that I’m-asking-you-without-asking-you thing and you kind of sexed my name.” He sighs deeply. “Addison, he’s my best friend. He’s a jackass and he treats you like crap and he kind of sucks as a friend. But he’s my best friend and the only family I care to know.”
“I don’t know how to function without him.” She drops her head, trying to remember what life was like before she met her husband, before he was in her life. “But,” she looks up again, “I don’t think I can continue functioning with him.”
“Sounds like your mind’s made up.”
“Yeah,” she says shakily. She puts her hands in her lap and fiddles with her rings, taking them off just to see what her left hand would look like bare for the first time in the twelve years since he placed the engagement ring on her finger. It’s comforting, promises of a new start amid the terror of walking away from that much history. But she quickly places the rings back on her finger and puts her hands back on the table, digging into her steak before it gets cold as distraction from the gravity of divorce.
“You’ll make it,” he whispers.
She pauses and finishes chewing before she looks up at him. “What?”
“You’ll make it through.”
Until he said something, she didn’t realize she had any doubts about her success in signing the final pieces of paper that would divide books and CDs and crystal vases. “How do you know?” It’s a barely audible whisper.
“Because I’ll be on the other end for you.” He smiles at her. “Can you pass the potatoes? They’re really good.”
17: The Star
callalily_love
Mark watches as her elbows find rest on the bar counter and she glances over at him every so often, trying to think of what to say.
He clears his throat and offers a nervous grin. “So how was LA?”
“LA was...different.” Addison begins slowly, putting on an accepting and resigned face. “Look, Mark...things don't have to be awkward between us. We tried. We tried, and we did our best, and just because we failed as a couple, it doesn't mean...”
“I know.” He sighs, wishing he could tell her what he so desperately wants to.
“So we're still friends?”
“Yes, and I didn’t break the bet.” He almost laughs at how absurd the two statements are laced together, but he’s still full of so much underlying hope, and even if she went back on their deal and doesn’t want to be with him, it doesn’t do anything to stem his wishes that maybe she does.
Addison's eyes immediately widen. “What?”
“I held out.” He breathes out slowly. “I didn’t sleep with anyone else. I told you I did because I know you slept with Karev and figured if you didn’t want to be with me then you shouldn’t have to feel guilty about it.”
“I never said I didn’t want to.” Her voice comes out soft and he leans closer to hear. “I just…we want different things, Mark. I want a family and a lifetime together. You want someone to keep the other side of your bed warm.”
He shakes his head, frustration rising. “You don’t know what I want.”
“You don’t -”
“I wanted you and that hasn’t changed.” He interjects. “I wanted you and not every reason why I do involves sex, Addison. I could get that from any woman, but no other woman is going to make me feel the way I do when I’m with you. I wanted a future with you.”
“I want to believe that, just…” she sighs and reaches for his hand, leading him away from the round of beers and to a deserted corner of the bar. “Where do you honestly see us five years from now, Mark?”
He takes a deep breath and considers all the aspirations and dreams and hopes he wants to share with her. “We’re married.” He says quietly. “It was a small wedding, just us and a few close friends, but you looked gorgeous in your dress. We had the honeymoon in…do you want Paris or Venice?”
“Paris.” She says softly, gazing at him in wonderment.
“Paris it is then, but we didn’t leave the hotel often anyway. We live in a big white house with those cliché blue shutters you always see in movies and there’s maybe a tire swing or a swing set in the backyard because we have two kids, a boy and a girl. Both births were natural and you refused all forms of pain medication, but in the end it was worth because they’re beautiful kids. Our kids drive us crazy, but we love them and still have time for each other, and oh, did I mention I’m the Chief of Surgery?”
“I’m the Chief of Surgery.” Her eyes narrow playfully, but beneath the mirth is a renewed awareness. “Please keep going though.”
“We’re happy.” Mark reaches out and holds both her hands. “We argue sometimes and we’re not the poster couple for that one great love or a happily ever after, but we love each other and we survive everything. We got our own version of a happy ending because we never gave up on the idea of a happy beginning.”
“Okay.” She nods quietly.
“Where do you see us?”
“Essentially, the same thing except on our honeymoon we do spend a little time outside the hotel so I can go shopping.” She smiles wryly. “But before all that, I tell you I’m sorry for panicking and thinking our dreams were different and then breaking the bet.”
He swallows nervously, squeezing her hands tighter. “And what happens after I say it’s okay and I’m not mad at you?”
“I kiss you and then we go back to your hotel room…or mine, whichever is closer to the elevator, and then you make love to me and we start the rest of our lives together.” She steps closer, until their hands are on his chest and she’s breathing quietly over his lips. “Thank you for wanting to make my dreams come true.”
“They will.” He whispers, gently pressing his mouth to hers.
18: The Moon
sweetnarcosis
“We shouldn’t be, oh God, doing this.” Addison moans as Mark lightly traps her against the wall and expertly kisses his way up her neck to swirl his tongue around her earlobe.
“I know,” he whispers in her ear, his hands roaming over her breasts and down her sides to grasp the edge of her shirt. He pulls it over her head in one fluid movement. “Do you want to stop?”
“Not really.” She unzips his jacket and pushes the heavy leather onto the floor.
“Good. Me neither.” He leans in and kisses her full on the mouth, his fingertips teasing the skin of her stomach and tracing the edge of her bra around her back to unhook it.
“Do you like this shirt?” Addison breathes against his lips as she grasps the material and pulls him closer.
“Not really.”
“Good.” She smirks seductively, purposely copying him. “Me neither.” With one pull she rips the shirt and sends buttons flying across his apartment floor.
He hooks an arm around her back and tugs her through the rest of his apartment, tripping over his feet and hers as they make their way toward his bedroom. They push each other up against walls, taking moments to cherish shared and illicit kisses, and eagerly tumble into his bed.
Her bra is somewhere near the kitchen and she fumbled her way out of her pants somewhere near the bathroom and his mouth latches onto a nipple as his hands push at her simple black thong. He slips a finger into her without warning and she moans loudly, pushing her hips up as if to drive his finger deeper. She gets her wish and the addition of another as his thumb swipes across her clit.
“We really shouldn’t...” her sentence trails off; his fingers curl and twist and hit spots he found on their first time that Derek took five years to find.
Mark scrapes his teeth against her collarbone as he thrusts his fingers into her deep and hard like she wants. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
She gains some control of herself and cups his cheeks and pulls him roughly up to look at her. “Just because we shouldn’t doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” She gasps and her breath hitches in her throat as he dances his fingertips against her walls, seeking out that one elusive spot. “I want this, Mark.”
“How do you want it?” He asks with a grin, thrusting a third finger into her. He’s amazed and kind of in awe of her and her stamina and creativity (her yoga habit certainly doesn’t hurt). Every afternoon or night for the last three weeks he’s found himself fucking the wife of his best friend and his guilt is rapidly disappearing with each time she screams his name or strokes him hard for another round.
Addison opens her eyes, the blue deep and dark with passion and need. “Hard,” she pants, pushing her hips up to meet his movements. “Everything you have.”
“Want me to make you pass out again?” Mark smirks at that, remembering one of his crowning achievements.
She smiles back at him. “That was fun. Or, what was it - oh God don’t stop that - three minutes straight?”
“Five,” he kisses her deeply. “He won’t miss you at home tonight, right?”
“Not unless he wants some. And he can jack off in the shower.” She brushes her hands between them to start working on his pants but he bats her hands away with his free hand, making it clear that it’s all about her for a while.
“Good,” he whispers huskily with a look in his eye that makes her weak with anticipation. “Because what I intend to do to you,” he speeds up his fingers and rubs her clit with renewed energy, “you won’t be able to walk.” He gives her one last devilish smirk before sucking almost painfully on a nipple.
“Okay...oh...oh God,” her head drops onto the pillow and she holds his head against her breast. “Jesus...MARK!” Any last shred of guilt she may have felt completely dissolves as he makes her come harder than he ever has and harder than any man has ever attempted.
It’s more than the explosive and unforgettably passionate sex. He holds her until long after the fireworks have subsided and her body has stopped trembling and he holds her not because he’s supposed to, but because he wants to.
19: The Sun
callalily_love
The front door closes with a ceremonious bang, and even though Addison is seated in the kitchen, she doesn’t have to look to see what’s going on. Her little girl’s shoes will be joining the ever growing collection by the coat rack and Mark will nearly trip over his wife’s vibrant stilettos and the sneakers belonging to their five-year-old.
“Mommy, we’re back!” The redhead’s pigtails bounce behind her as she runs into the kitchen with her fist clenched tightly around a sugar cone dripping with strawberry ice cream. Her steps are full of life and she’s easily the best thing that could have ever happened to them. She wasn’t expected, especially in the aftermath of very low fertility, but she is a miracle in every way they could have hoped for. She loves to draw rainbows, play hide and seek, ask questions, and is learning to play catch with her father. She’s strong-willed with her mother’s temper and her father quick tongue, but she’s thoughtful and loving and they both think she’s absolutely perfect. She makes all the history and mistakes and bets worth the effort because if they hadn’t gone through all of it they wouldn’t have gotten to this point in their lives.
“Mommy, look.” She grins mischievously and comes to a stop at the kitchen table. “It has sprinkles on it too.”
“I can see that.” Addison wrinkles her nose and gives Mark a pointed look when he makes his way into the kitchen. “Ice cream before dinner?”
He shrugs as though the reasoning is obvious. “She gave me the Look.”
“The Look?”
“This one,” their daughter flashes an adorable smile, making her dimples grow wider and light blue eyes crinkle with glee. She’s a beautiful child and a wonderful combination of both of them.
“Good girl.” Addison lightly pokes her in the side, making the child laugh when her fingertips trail over ribs. “That’s the exact smile I used when your dad and I were looking at wedding bands together.”
The little girl takes one last lick and holds the messy cone out for her. “Done.”
“You know where the garbage is.” Mark gestures to the bin on the other side of the room, smirking when she saunters over and throws the eaten cone in as hard as she can. “Go wash your hands for dinner, alright?”
“Okay.” She moves past him again, smiling over her shoulder. “I love you.”
“Love you too, kiddo.” He watches as she paces out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. Addison informing him that she wanted to try for a baby had terrified him, especially because of the child she didn’t want before and the accusations she made about the idea of him being a father. She was right though; he wasn’t ready at that point in his life to take on the responsibility of a child when he was still like a child himself at times. He grew up though, and the second time around was more than ready to try to have a baby with the woman he loved. Seven months later her pregnancy test was positive, and he can honestly say that his daughter’s birth in early June was one of the best days of his life.
Their child signifies everything that they are to one another. She represents the triumph over their mistakes, the perfection over their flaws, and the happy ending over their horrendous beginning. She’s the result of lovemaking and much of the reason that they make their relationship work day in and day out. She makes their lives so much more fulfilling, and because of their love for her they love each other that much more.
20: Judgment
callalily_love
“Oh, God,” she moans foggily when Mark pushes into her after two mind-blowing orgasms, his fingers teasing last few circles around her clit. He brushes his lips over hers and their mouths crash together over and over as she lifts her hips to meet his languid thrusts.
Her hands trail over his cheekbones, slipping through his stubble before hooking around the back of his neck. Addison sighs breathily into his mouth, fingers scraping at his skin when he moves faster. Her legs fold around his waist as he grinds his hips over hers, sending tiny shocks through her body.
His chest rubs against her hardened nipples and she presses her heels into his slick skin and pulls him in deeper. Feeling her getting close, he trails a hand down to where their bodies are joined and slowly circles her clit with his thumb. Her contracting muscles cause him to pulsate as well, relishing in a feeling that hasn’t been felt in over two months. He brings his lips back to hers, offering brief, wet kisses between heavy gasps and shared cries of mounting passion.
Her muscles clench around them and she moans loudly, arching her back up higher as she calls out his name. Mark spills his release seconds later, groaning her name against her neck.
He collapses on top of her, both gasping for breath. He rolls off her slowly onto his side, but tucks at arm beneath the curve of her neck to pull her with him, cuddling her into his chest and gearing up for the second round because he was completely serious about being in a locked room with her and breaking all sorts of sexual records.
His hand grazes up her thigh, working to spread her legs apart again and she tenses. Addison pushes at his hand, guiding it away from her body and back between them.
“Oh.” He arches an eyebrow. “I thought -”
“I’m not a conquest.” She cuts in. “I’m glad you went sixty days, Mark. I’m happy you were able to complete the project, but that doesn’t mean that your ability to abstain then now means you have earned the reward of having sex with me as much as you want to.”
“Addison -”
“Because it wasn’t about the sex. It was about proving that you could do this because I need more than the physical stuff. I need commitment and dedication and a reason to stay with you. I need to believe that I can be in love with you and not get hurt. Maybe you looked at this whole thing as crossing the finish line, but I wanted you to see it as preparing for the starting line. I’m in love with you for reasons I don’t understand and because of that I want this to be a long-term thing with barbeques, family albums, and anniversaries.” She swallows nervously, willing him to comprehend that she’s the long-lasting accomplishment, not the prize that leads to orgasms and naked bodies.
“I know, Addison.” He slides his hand back and gives hers a gentle squeeze. “This wasn’t a game to me. I know we’ve made mistakes and done things to screw each other over, but if I wasn’t completely serious about this I would have quit on day eight instead of jump roping. I’m all in, okay? Maybe it started out about not having sex, but I care about you and the idea of not succeeding made me realize it was about you. I see this as a second chance and the opportunity to start over. I want to.”
“Okay.” She whispers, leaning forward to brush her lips against his, relishing in a new beginning she didn’t think was possible.
21: The World
callalily_love
They celebrate their ten year anniversary in Rome, and it’s only on their fourth day in the city that they finally put clothes on and make it out of their hotel room, even though both are limping and in desperate need of aspirin. Mark asks the man at the desk to point them in the direction of the nearest beach and finds himself increasingly grateful that nearly everyone in the front office can speak English, because the little Italian he knows isn’t enough to form complete sentences and Addison laughs and likes to inform him that his accent is appalling.
She smiles when the man Mark is talking to (and making gracious conversation with, but she thinks the employee should seeing as the rare amount of times they’ve left their bed have been to answer the door for room service and their bill is going to be impressively colossal when they checkout two days from now) asks if they’re newlyweds, to which he shakes his head. They’ve been asked that so many times now, and they both know that being in a foreign country and hoping to watch a Mediterranean sunset hasn’t made them any more affectionate than normal because they’re always that couple; they hold hands, offers up hugs when one has had a bad day, and somehow manage to keep the romance going despite the presence of three little redheads who are utterly demanding and manage to take over what little free time Addison and Mark have.
They take a wrong turn at one point, but eventually find their way down to the Terracina Beach. She risks dirtying her designer trousers and sinks down into the sand. He takes a seat behind her, legs spanned around her. She leans back into his chest and his arms fold around her, providing contentment she can never quite figure out but knows he’s the only man whose arms have left her with a sense of fulfillment and blissful completion.
The sunset is a breathtaking array of reds and yellows, and he holds her tighter when she unconsciously shivers from the light breeze pulling the waves in.
“It’s beautiful.” She murmurs as the last sunrays begin their descent.
“Not as beautiful as you are.” He whispers into her hair, and though she wants to laugh, roll her eyes, and inform him that he’s gotten enough sex from her in the past few days to last him at least two months, there’s an adoring truth in his words that doesn’t make it simply a mechanical response.
She never expected this; she never expected him to turn her life upside down and make her question everything she’s ever thought about love and relationships and dedication. Mark did though, and through it all, she knows that no one has ever loved her the way he has and that she’s never loved anyone else as much as she loves him. Mistakes are forgiven and forgotten. History is cherished rather than thrown away. Effort and determination to work through past problems leads to a successful end result. Their home in Los Angeles is cozy and residential, what they feel is a wonderful location for raising the Montgomery-Sloan daughters, who look like their mother but act more like their father.
They aren’t perfect and nothing about their relationship has or ever will be perfect, but in every imaginable way they are perfect for each other.
“I love you, Mark.” She says softly and closes her eyes, sheer happiness pulsing through her. She places her hands over his, knowing she means it just as much as she did the first time she told him.
“I love you too, Addison.” His lips brush over her temple. She inhales slowly at the soft sensation of his mouth on her skin, and her eyes leisurely open to take in the endless miles of ocean in front of them as the night sky begins to emerge.
They fall into a comfortable silence and remain at ease in each other’s arms.
Both know that life is truly perfect.
finis
Authors: Sara (sweetnarcosis) and Calla (callalily_love). Credited in fic.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mark/Addison
Music: Enigma :: Gravity of Love
don't think twice before you listen to your heart
follow the trace for a new start
what you need and everything you feel
is just a question of the deal
in the eye of the storm you will see a lonely dove
the experience of survival is the key...
15: The Devil
sweetnarcosis
“How much longer do you think you can keep this up?” Mark stands on her front steps, his hands shoved in his coat pockets, eyes full of protective and angry concern.
Addison doesn’t make any effort to hide the vodka bottle in her hand. “Keep what up?” She blocks the doorway with her body and stands up as straight and as rigid as she can, which isn’t much since she’s been drinking for the last three hours.
He knows she can’t possibly put up any defense when she’s like this so he takes the last step up and his invasion of her personal space causes her to step backward into the brownstone, far enough that he can shut the door behind them. “Drinking every night. Chasing two Ambien with a shot of Grey Goose before bed. You’re a doctor, Addison, you know how bad of an idea that is.”
“I don’t care, Mark!” She explodes and gestures wildly, knocking a picture frame off the shelf. It falls to the ground with a thud and a sparkling crack of the glass. “He left! He’s all I had and he left! And he left because of you, Mark. If you hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t let me have that last glass of wine, if you hadn’t kissed me back, he would still be here.” She points at his chest with every you. “It’s your fault and you dare to judge me? Get the fuck out of my house!” She takes an emphatic drink straight from the bottle, the burning in her throat unnoticeable as the burning behind her eyes gets worse.
She is a doctor, she had to take at least one course in pharmacology and she has some common sense and knows enough to read warning labels and drug interactions so she knows that sleeping medication and alcohol is not a recommended combination. She wishes she could say that she’s numb and that she doesn’t feel anything at all because then she wouldn’t need to be doing this. She wouldn’t be driving down this particular self-destructive path if she could feel. But she feels too much and all she feels is pain and this is the only way she knows how to counteract the searing pain in her entire body. It’s the only way she had ever known until Derek came along and he became the replacement drug. With him gone, it’s back to the bottle. Both of them.
Mark reaches out and wrenches the bottle from her grasp and turns it upside down, pouring it into the pot of an already-dying plant by the front door. “This ends, Addison. This ends tonight.” He doesn’t hurt for her, he’s angry with her. She’s a smart and intelligent woman, and he knows that she knows better. He also knows that she doesn’t want to be doing this, that she doesn’t want to simply become another alcoholic divorcee. He knows this because he’s the one who caught her at it the first time in medical school.
“Good. Means you can get out of my...let me go!” Addison struggles against his arms as he effortlessly picks her up and carries her upstairs into bed. “I hate you. Just...” Her words trail off into noises of protest until he unceremoniously dumps her onto her bed. She clumsily scrambles away from him and tucks her knees under her chin. Despite her childish posture, her eyes burn into his with seething anger and her nostrils flare as she breathes deep and hard.
“Are you done being sixteen?” He stands at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed, anger shooting right back at her as he talks down to her. She opens her mouth to say something drunk and snappy but he cuts her off. “Good. Because I really don’t care how much you hate me right now...”
Suddenly, the full effects of the alcohol hit her and she begins to cry. Her shoulders slump and she curls up tighter in a ball. “I don’t hate you, Mark,” she looks up at him, still standing in front of her without even a hint of movement, “I really don’t and it’s not your fault that I’m stupid and kissed you when I’m married but please believe me that I don’t hate you because I really don’t want you to think that because you’re all...” She silences at a finger on her lips.
“Addison? Shut up.”
She sniffles and nods. “I’m sorry, Mark. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dragged you into this and I’m sorry that I said I hated you and I’m sorry I’m such a mess because you don’t need to deal with me too when you’ve got...”
“Shut up,” he says again and helps her fumble her way into his lap. “Shut up and cry.”
16: The Tower
sweetnarcosis
“I don’t care anymore,” she says, sipping elegantly at a glass of red wine. She watches the man at the other end of the dining room table for a reaction. She looks for recognition of some form in his eyes through the flickering candlelight.
“About what?” He picks up his fork and knife and cuts into the steak in front of him.
“This.” She gestures apathetically around her. “This life. It’s boring, it’s dull, it’s not going anywhere. And it’s so pathetic even I laugh at it now. I’m cried out. I can’t go on like this.” She spears a green bean and silently compliments herself on a job well done.
“Like what?” He’s impressed with dinner.
“Pretending like I care. Mark, my husband is supposed to be sitting across from me, not you. We got married ten years ago today and he didn’t say a word to me. I know he keeps his rings in the car because it’s too much effort for him to wear them during the two hours a day he isn’t in surgery. I’m an object for him.” She takes another sip of her wine and gently chews on a bite of steak done medium-rare.
“Addison, you are not...”
She shakes her head and swallows. “No, listen, I’ve thought about this. I don’t exist for him outside of this house. And, really, that’s a stretch sometimes. He ignores me at work, gets up earlier for the purpose of not having to car pool, he expects dinner of some form when he comes home - if he comes home - and I either lie there in bed wondering if he’s going to bother to touch me or I lie there in bed wondering why he’s bothering to touch me because it’s not any good. He didn’t even notice when I gave up trying. It was like he was relieved.”
He finishes his own glass of wine and looks across the candles lit for ceremonial purposes only at her. “What would make you feel better?”
“Decent sex.”
“Addison.”
“Mark.”
He drops his knife and fork onto his plate. “I know I said I’d do anything to make you happy, but I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Did I ask you to?”
“Actually, you did. Right there. Your eyes did that I’m-asking-you-without-asking-you thing and you kind of sexed my name.” He sighs deeply. “Addison, he’s my best friend. He’s a jackass and he treats you like crap and he kind of sucks as a friend. But he’s my best friend and the only family I care to know.”
“I don’t know how to function without him.” She drops her head, trying to remember what life was like before she met her husband, before he was in her life. “But,” she looks up again, “I don’t think I can continue functioning with him.”
“Sounds like your mind’s made up.”
“Yeah,” she says shakily. She puts her hands in her lap and fiddles with her rings, taking them off just to see what her left hand would look like bare for the first time in the twelve years since he placed the engagement ring on her finger. It’s comforting, promises of a new start amid the terror of walking away from that much history. But she quickly places the rings back on her finger and puts her hands back on the table, digging into her steak before it gets cold as distraction from the gravity of divorce.
“You’ll make it,” he whispers.
She pauses and finishes chewing before she looks up at him. “What?”
“You’ll make it through.”
Until he said something, she didn’t realize she had any doubts about her success in signing the final pieces of paper that would divide books and CDs and crystal vases. “How do you know?” It’s a barely audible whisper.
“Because I’ll be on the other end for you.” He smiles at her. “Can you pass the potatoes? They’re really good.”
17: The Star
callalily_love
Mark watches as her elbows find rest on the bar counter and she glances over at him every so often, trying to think of what to say.
He clears his throat and offers a nervous grin. “So how was LA?”
“LA was...different.” Addison begins slowly, putting on an accepting and resigned face. “Look, Mark...things don't have to be awkward between us. We tried. We tried, and we did our best, and just because we failed as a couple, it doesn't mean...”
“I know.” He sighs, wishing he could tell her what he so desperately wants to.
“So we're still friends?”
“Yes, and I didn’t break the bet.” He almost laughs at how absurd the two statements are laced together, but he’s still full of so much underlying hope, and even if she went back on their deal and doesn’t want to be with him, it doesn’t do anything to stem his wishes that maybe she does.
Addison's eyes immediately widen. “What?”
“I held out.” He breathes out slowly. “I didn’t sleep with anyone else. I told you I did because I know you slept with Karev and figured if you didn’t want to be with me then you shouldn’t have to feel guilty about it.”
“I never said I didn’t want to.” Her voice comes out soft and he leans closer to hear. “I just…we want different things, Mark. I want a family and a lifetime together. You want someone to keep the other side of your bed warm.”
He shakes his head, frustration rising. “You don’t know what I want.”
“You don’t -”
“I wanted you and that hasn’t changed.” He interjects. “I wanted you and not every reason why I do involves sex, Addison. I could get that from any woman, but no other woman is going to make me feel the way I do when I’m with you. I wanted a future with you.”
“I want to believe that, just…” she sighs and reaches for his hand, leading him away from the round of beers and to a deserted corner of the bar. “Where do you honestly see us five years from now, Mark?”
He takes a deep breath and considers all the aspirations and dreams and hopes he wants to share with her. “We’re married.” He says quietly. “It was a small wedding, just us and a few close friends, but you looked gorgeous in your dress. We had the honeymoon in…do you want Paris or Venice?”
“Paris.” She says softly, gazing at him in wonderment.
“Paris it is then, but we didn’t leave the hotel often anyway. We live in a big white house with those cliché blue shutters you always see in movies and there’s maybe a tire swing or a swing set in the backyard because we have two kids, a boy and a girl. Both births were natural and you refused all forms of pain medication, but in the end it was worth because they’re beautiful kids. Our kids drive us crazy, but we love them and still have time for each other, and oh, did I mention I’m the Chief of Surgery?”
“I’m the Chief of Surgery.” Her eyes narrow playfully, but beneath the mirth is a renewed awareness. “Please keep going though.”
“We’re happy.” Mark reaches out and holds both her hands. “We argue sometimes and we’re not the poster couple for that one great love or a happily ever after, but we love each other and we survive everything. We got our own version of a happy ending because we never gave up on the idea of a happy beginning.”
“Okay.” She nods quietly.
“Where do you see us?”
“Essentially, the same thing except on our honeymoon we do spend a little time outside the hotel so I can go shopping.” She smiles wryly. “But before all that, I tell you I’m sorry for panicking and thinking our dreams were different and then breaking the bet.”
He swallows nervously, squeezing her hands tighter. “And what happens after I say it’s okay and I’m not mad at you?”
“I kiss you and then we go back to your hotel room…or mine, whichever is closer to the elevator, and then you make love to me and we start the rest of our lives together.” She steps closer, until their hands are on his chest and she’s breathing quietly over his lips. “Thank you for wanting to make my dreams come true.”
“They will.” He whispers, gently pressing his mouth to hers.
18: The Moon
sweetnarcosis
“We shouldn’t be, oh God, doing this.” Addison moans as Mark lightly traps her against the wall and expertly kisses his way up her neck to swirl his tongue around her earlobe.
“I know,” he whispers in her ear, his hands roaming over her breasts and down her sides to grasp the edge of her shirt. He pulls it over her head in one fluid movement. “Do you want to stop?”
“Not really.” She unzips his jacket and pushes the heavy leather onto the floor.
“Good. Me neither.” He leans in and kisses her full on the mouth, his fingertips teasing the skin of her stomach and tracing the edge of her bra around her back to unhook it.
“Do you like this shirt?” Addison breathes against his lips as she grasps the material and pulls him closer.
“Not really.”
“Good.” She smirks seductively, purposely copying him. “Me neither.” With one pull she rips the shirt and sends buttons flying across his apartment floor.
He hooks an arm around her back and tugs her through the rest of his apartment, tripping over his feet and hers as they make their way toward his bedroom. They push each other up against walls, taking moments to cherish shared and illicit kisses, and eagerly tumble into his bed.
Her bra is somewhere near the kitchen and she fumbled her way out of her pants somewhere near the bathroom and his mouth latches onto a nipple as his hands push at her simple black thong. He slips a finger into her without warning and she moans loudly, pushing her hips up as if to drive his finger deeper. She gets her wish and the addition of another as his thumb swipes across her clit.
“We really shouldn’t...” her sentence trails off; his fingers curl and twist and hit spots he found on their first time that Derek took five years to find.
Mark scrapes his teeth against her collarbone as he thrusts his fingers into her deep and hard like she wants. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
She gains some control of herself and cups his cheeks and pulls him roughly up to look at her. “Just because we shouldn’t doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” She gasps and her breath hitches in her throat as he dances his fingertips against her walls, seeking out that one elusive spot. “I want this, Mark.”
“How do you want it?” He asks with a grin, thrusting a third finger into her. He’s amazed and kind of in awe of her and her stamina and creativity (her yoga habit certainly doesn’t hurt). Every afternoon or night for the last three weeks he’s found himself fucking the wife of his best friend and his guilt is rapidly disappearing with each time she screams his name or strokes him hard for another round.
Addison opens her eyes, the blue deep and dark with passion and need. “Hard,” she pants, pushing her hips up to meet his movements. “Everything you have.”
“Want me to make you pass out again?” Mark smirks at that, remembering one of his crowning achievements.
She smiles back at him. “That was fun. Or, what was it - oh God don’t stop that - three minutes straight?”
“Five,” he kisses her deeply. “He won’t miss you at home tonight, right?”
“Not unless he wants some. And he can jack off in the shower.” She brushes her hands between them to start working on his pants but he bats her hands away with his free hand, making it clear that it’s all about her for a while.
“Good,” he whispers huskily with a look in his eye that makes her weak with anticipation. “Because what I intend to do to you,” he speeds up his fingers and rubs her clit with renewed energy, “you won’t be able to walk.” He gives her one last devilish smirk before sucking almost painfully on a nipple.
“Okay...oh...oh God,” her head drops onto the pillow and she holds his head against her breast. “Jesus...MARK!” Any last shred of guilt she may have felt completely dissolves as he makes her come harder than he ever has and harder than any man has ever attempted.
It’s more than the explosive and unforgettably passionate sex. He holds her until long after the fireworks have subsided and her body has stopped trembling and he holds her not because he’s supposed to, but because he wants to.
19: The Sun
callalily_love
The front door closes with a ceremonious bang, and even though Addison is seated in the kitchen, she doesn’t have to look to see what’s going on. Her little girl’s shoes will be joining the ever growing collection by the coat rack and Mark will nearly trip over his wife’s vibrant stilettos and the sneakers belonging to their five-year-old.
“Mommy, we’re back!” The redhead’s pigtails bounce behind her as she runs into the kitchen with her fist clenched tightly around a sugar cone dripping with strawberry ice cream. Her steps are full of life and she’s easily the best thing that could have ever happened to them. She wasn’t expected, especially in the aftermath of very low fertility, but she is a miracle in every way they could have hoped for. She loves to draw rainbows, play hide and seek, ask questions, and is learning to play catch with her father. She’s strong-willed with her mother’s temper and her father quick tongue, but she’s thoughtful and loving and they both think she’s absolutely perfect. She makes all the history and mistakes and bets worth the effort because if they hadn’t gone through all of it they wouldn’t have gotten to this point in their lives.
“Mommy, look.” She grins mischievously and comes to a stop at the kitchen table. “It has sprinkles on it too.”
“I can see that.” Addison wrinkles her nose and gives Mark a pointed look when he makes his way into the kitchen. “Ice cream before dinner?”
He shrugs as though the reasoning is obvious. “She gave me the Look.”
“The Look?”
“This one,” their daughter flashes an adorable smile, making her dimples grow wider and light blue eyes crinkle with glee. She’s a beautiful child and a wonderful combination of both of them.
“Good girl.” Addison lightly pokes her in the side, making the child laugh when her fingertips trail over ribs. “That’s the exact smile I used when your dad and I were looking at wedding bands together.”
The little girl takes one last lick and holds the messy cone out for her. “Done.”
“You know where the garbage is.” Mark gestures to the bin on the other side of the room, smirking when she saunters over and throws the eaten cone in as hard as she can. “Go wash your hands for dinner, alright?”
“Okay.” She moves past him again, smiling over her shoulder. “I love you.”
“Love you too, kiddo.” He watches as she paces out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. Addison informing him that she wanted to try for a baby had terrified him, especially because of the child she didn’t want before and the accusations she made about the idea of him being a father. She was right though; he wasn’t ready at that point in his life to take on the responsibility of a child when he was still like a child himself at times. He grew up though, and the second time around was more than ready to try to have a baby with the woman he loved. Seven months later her pregnancy test was positive, and he can honestly say that his daughter’s birth in early June was one of the best days of his life.
Their child signifies everything that they are to one another. She represents the triumph over their mistakes, the perfection over their flaws, and the happy ending over their horrendous beginning. She’s the result of lovemaking and much of the reason that they make their relationship work day in and day out. She makes their lives so much more fulfilling, and because of their love for her they love each other that much more.
20: Judgment
callalily_love
“Oh, God,” she moans foggily when Mark pushes into her after two mind-blowing orgasms, his fingers teasing last few circles around her clit. He brushes his lips over hers and their mouths crash together over and over as she lifts her hips to meet his languid thrusts.
Her hands trail over his cheekbones, slipping through his stubble before hooking around the back of his neck. Addison sighs breathily into his mouth, fingers scraping at his skin when he moves faster. Her legs fold around his waist as he grinds his hips over hers, sending tiny shocks through her body.
His chest rubs against her hardened nipples and she presses her heels into his slick skin and pulls him in deeper. Feeling her getting close, he trails a hand down to where their bodies are joined and slowly circles her clit with his thumb. Her contracting muscles cause him to pulsate as well, relishing in a feeling that hasn’t been felt in over two months. He brings his lips back to hers, offering brief, wet kisses between heavy gasps and shared cries of mounting passion.
Her muscles clench around them and she moans loudly, arching her back up higher as she calls out his name. Mark spills his release seconds later, groaning her name against her neck.
He collapses on top of her, both gasping for breath. He rolls off her slowly onto his side, but tucks at arm beneath the curve of her neck to pull her with him, cuddling her into his chest and gearing up for the second round because he was completely serious about being in a locked room with her and breaking all sorts of sexual records.
His hand grazes up her thigh, working to spread her legs apart again and she tenses. Addison pushes at his hand, guiding it away from her body and back between them.
“Oh.” He arches an eyebrow. “I thought -”
“I’m not a conquest.” She cuts in. “I’m glad you went sixty days, Mark. I’m happy you were able to complete the project, but that doesn’t mean that your ability to abstain then now means you have earned the reward of having sex with me as much as you want to.”
“Addison -”
“Because it wasn’t about the sex. It was about proving that you could do this because I need more than the physical stuff. I need commitment and dedication and a reason to stay with you. I need to believe that I can be in love with you and not get hurt. Maybe you looked at this whole thing as crossing the finish line, but I wanted you to see it as preparing for the starting line. I’m in love with you for reasons I don’t understand and because of that I want this to be a long-term thing with barbeques, family albums, and anniversaries.” She swallows nervously, willing him to comprehend that she’s the long-lasting accomplishment, not the prize that leads to orgasms and naked bodies.
“I know, Addison.” He slides his hand back and gives hers a gentle squeeze. “This wasn’t a game to me. I know we’ve made mistakes and done things to screw each other over, but if I wasn’t completely serious about this I would have quit on day eight instead of jump roping. I’m all in, okay? Maybe it started out about not having sex, but I care about you and the idea of not succeeding made me realize it was about you. I see this as a second chance and the opportunity to start over. I want to.”
“Okay.” She whispers, leaning forward to brush her lips against his, relishing in a new beginning she didn’t think was possible.
21: The World
callalily_love
They celebrate their ten year anniversary in Rome, and it’s only on their fourth day in the city that they finally put clothes on and make it out of their hotel room, even though both are limping and in desperate need of aspirin. Mark asks the man at the desk to point them in the direction of the nearest beach and finds himself increasingly grateful that nearly everyone in the front office can speak English, because the little Italian he knows isn’t enough to form complete sentences and Addison laughs and likes to inform him that his accent is appalling.
She smiles when the man Mark is talking to (and making gracious conversation with, but she thinks the employee should seeing as the rare amount of times they’ve left their bed have been to answer the door for room service and their bill is going to be impressively colossal when they checkout two days from now) asks if they’re newlyweds, to which he shakes his head. They’ve been asked that so many times now, and they both know that being in a foreign country and hoping to watch a Mediterranean sunset hasn’t made them any more affectionate than normal because they’re always that couple; they hold hands, offers up hugs when one has had a bad day, and somehow manage to keep the romance going despite the presence of three little redheads who are utterly demanding and manage to take over what little free time Addison and Mark have.
They take a wrong turn at one point, but eventually find their way down to the Terracina Beach. She risks dirtying her designer trousers and sinks down into the sand. He takes a seat behind her, legs spanned around her. She leans back into his chest and his arms fold around her, providing contentment she can never quite figure out but knows he’s the only man whose arms have left her with a sense of fulfillment and blissful completion.
The sunset is a breathtaking array of reds and yellows, and he holds her tighter when she unconsciously shivers from the light breeze pulling the waves in.
“It’s beautiful.” She murmurs as the last sunrays begin their descent.
“Not as beautiful as you are.” He whispers into her hair, and though she wants to laugh, roll her eyes, and inform him that he’s gotten enough sex from her in the past few days to last him at least two months, there’s an adoring truth in his words that doesn’t make it simply a mechanical response.
She never expected this; she never expected him to turn her life upside down and make her question everything she’s ever thought about love and relationships and dedication. Mark did though, and through it all, she knows that no one has ever loved her the way he has and that she’s never loved anyone else as much as she loves him. Mistakes are forgiven and forgotten. History is cherished rather than thrown away. Effort and determination to work through past problems leads to a successful end result. Their home in Los Angeles is cozy and residential, what they feel is a wonderful location for raising the Montgomery-Sloan daughters, who look like their mother but act more like their father.
They aren’t perfect and nothing about their relationship has or ever will be perfect, but in every imaginable way they are perfect for each other.
“I love you, Mark.” She says softly and closes her eyes, sheer happiness pulsing through her. She places her hands over his, knowing she means it just as much as she did the first time she told him.
“I love you too, Addison.” His lips brush over her temple. She inhales slowly at the soft sensation of his mouth on her skin, and her eyes leisurely open to take in the endless miles of ocean in front of them as the night sky begins to emerge.
They fall into a comfortable silence and remain at ease in each other’s arms.
Both know that life is truly perfect.
finis