(no subject)
Title: Out Of The Mouths Of Babes (5/?)
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: The plot *had* to thicken sooner or later. Gratuitous character bashing ahead. ;)
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
*~*~*~*~*~
Mark was at his locker, taping a photo of himself, Jack, and Callie, to the inside of the door, when someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned, saw George O’Malley standing behind him and decided to leave the door open long enough for the shorter man to see the photograph clearly. It was a great picture, taken at Fun Forest. Jack was holding an ice cream and had just given Mark a bite and Callie was looking up at them, smiling broadly. He saw O’Malley’s eyes on the photo and smirked a little, pleased with himself.
"What can I do for you, O’Malley?"
"I found Callie’s son hiding in the men’s bathroom a few minutes ago and she’s in surgery." George tore his gaze away from the photo and looked at Mark. "He won’t come out with me because I’m a stranger so I was hoping you could -"
"Which bathroom?"
"Lobby."
Mark nodded and left the room.
George looked back at the photo, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he did.
*~
Chief Webber stood in the restroom trying to talk to Jack through the stall door when Mark arrived. Sloan could hear the little boy sobbing softly and his brow furrowed when he heard him whimpering for his mother. "Hey buddy," Mark called, stopping just outside the door. "Your mom’s working right now. Can you come out and talk to me?"
"Dad?"
"What’s wrong, Jack?" Mark asked, ignoring Chief Webber’s raised eyebrows and shock at Jack’s choice of words.
The door opened and the little boy peered up at him. "I did a bad thing. My ass is going straight to hell. Sister Mary Hazel said so."
Mark squatted down next to him. "What could you possibly have done in less than an hour on your very first day?"
Jack’s bottom lip trembled. "I got real mad because they didn’t start with finger painting like last time so I threw the paint at the teacher to remind her."
Callie had told Mark about the importance of not changing the routine too much for Jack. He needed things a certain way at all times, hence Monday meatloaf, Tuesday’s tacos, and all the other repetitive aspects of his life. He could usually handle small amounts of change, like take out for dinner or Spaghetti (his favorite food) on a Sunday instead of Thursday, but too much at once would usually cause a temper tantrum the likes of which the world had never seen. Jack had to be prepared, very well, for anything that was altered in his schedule. Taking a deep breath, Mark took his hand and said, "That wasn’t very nice. Did you apologize?"
"No. When it popped all over her head and made her blue ... I called her a damn smurf. And then I hitted her with red so she would look like Optimus Prime instead. So I ran here while she was still blind."
"First of all, you can’t just leave school. Second, you’re going to apologize to your teacher and you are never, ever going to do that again. Do you understand?"
"I want my mom," Jack wailed.
Mark pulled him against his chest and hugged him tightly, rubbing circles on his back as he did so. "Your mom would want me to take you back to school, Jack-o. And she’d want you to say you’re sorry, too."
"Can’t I just see her for a few minutes. Just a few? I want her."
"Her surgery should be over by now," Webber interjected. "Why don’t you page her, Dr. Sloan."
"Yeah," Jack said, leaning back to gaze at Mark. "Why don’t you page her?"
"Okay. Let’s go call." Mark picked him up and Jack put his head on his shoulder, hugging him.
As luck would have it, they ran into Callie in the elevator and she panicked the moment she saw her son being cradled against Mark’s chest. He had to reassure her quickly because she was frantically tearing at the child’s clothing trying to find the source of his tears. "He’s not hurt," Mark said, handing the little boy off to her. "He did a bad thing. I was going to handle it, but he insisted on seeing you."
In the conference room, with the blinds wide open for everyone to see, Jack told his mother what happened. When she angrily informed him that he was grounded to his room for three days, he slumped back in his chair with his arms crossed and the gaggle of co-workers who walked by to peer in at the little boy would later swear that a mini Callie was in their midst, his expression and body language so much like hers that it was frightening.
They both walked him back to the school, where Jack submissively apologized and left with the paint spattered teacher (who looked at him like he was a juvenile Jack the Ripper). Callie lost her temper with the staff, shocking Mark with her choice of words and the harsh way she delivered them. She made it very, very clear that if her son wandered off the premises again she would file a lawsuit for negligence and then she stormed out, Mark hot on her heels. He took her hand in the parking lot of the hospital and felt her stiffen. "Hey, are you okay? Cal?"
"Always page me when it’s about Jack. Always."
Her tone forced him to stop walking. He still had her hand so she stopped with him. "It wasn’t an emergency. I was taking him back and -"
"I’m his mother."
"I understand that, but - well, you were kind of hard on him, weren’t you? That’s not your thing."
"Whatever." She pulled her hand from his and glared at him. "Apparently watching people in the shower is *your* thing."
"What?"
Callie took a step back when he reached for her. "Olivia and Elise were my nurses today during surgery. They were talking about you and how you liked to watch them in the shower and -"
"Whoa!" Mark closed the distance between them and put his hands on her hips, holding her close. "My past is my past, Callie. It’s there. You know all about it so don’t get pissed at me today for it."
"They’re acting like -"
"I don’t care. And neither should you." He moved one hand up to her face, cupping it. "It has been almost a year since you miscarried. Almost a year since the day that I touched anyone."
"Why?" she asked, dumbstruck.
"Because condoms are not one hundred percent. Watching you lose your baby made me realize that I couldn’t handle another child of mine being aborted so ... I stopped. And I knew that you weren’t ready yet so I waited until you were."
"You really expect me to believe that? You couldn’t even go sixty days with Addison." She saw the shock on his face. "Yeah, she told me."
"Well, you’re no Addison. I had no trouble waiting at all for you."
"Are you actually going to stand there and tell me that you knew you wanted to be with me since my *miscarriage*?"
"Have you not asked yourself why I’m keeping a locker in the resident’s lounge instead of with the attendings? Why I was sitting two feet away from your locker every single morning? Why I went out of my way to find reasons to talk to you and why ... when I saw that you wanted Jack ... I found the best lawyer in town?" Mark spread his feet a little and ran his hand over his chin. It was something he did when he was agitated. "I don’t understand why I need to justify anything with you after last night. Callie, what we shared ..."
"I was the butt of the joke for weeks after George left me. People laughed at my expense and acted like *I* had done something wrong. I don’t want to be the butt of the joke again, Mark."
"You being pissed at me for something that happened *months* ago? That’s a joke."
"You letting me think that last night was something special? That’s an even bigger one! You didn’t do anything with me that you haven’t done with half of this hospital. The shower, picking me up and -"
"You’re wrong!" he snapped. "I did something with you last night that I have *never* done! I made love!"
"I bet you say that to all the girls. Especially the ones who-"
"FUCK YOU!" Mark spun on his heel and stalked back into the hospital, leaving Callie standing alone with her mouth hanging open.
*~*~*~*~*~
"Is - is your son okay?"
Callie glanced up from the pin that she was inserting into a wrist and met George’s eyes. It was the first time he had spoken to her since the carnival and even longer since he had bothered to look at her. She nodded. "He’s fine."
"He’s a good looking kid."
"Thanks," Callie replied, looking back down as she began to screw the pin into place. "I didn’t have anything to do with that, but thanks."
"I found him this morning. Crying, I mean. He wouldn’t come out and talk to me because I was, as he put it, a damned stranger."
Callie chuckled behind her mask. "I don’t know what to do about his foul mouth. I’ve tried everything."
"Do you give him an allowance?" George asked, shifting a little to hold the sides of the incision back.
"Yes. Probably too much."
George smiled. "Make him put money in a jar every time he swears. It only took me a week to realize that my choice of words cost me a bundle so I stopped."
"How old were you?"
"Oh." George’s brow furrowed. "Thirteen or fourteen."
"He’s *five*."
"Try it anyway. If he likes money he’ll get it fast enough."
Callie nodded and lifted the final pin, glancing back up at him. "How’s your mother?"
"She’s fine."
"Tell her ‘hi’ for me."
George watched her work for a few seconds before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was so low that she stopped using the device in her hand and leaned closer. "What?" she asked.
"I said I didn’t know. About the miscarriage. I - I didn’t get the message."
"You didn’t get the message?"
He shook his head. "We were out of town. She - she erased it, Callie. She listened to it and erased the voicemail. I - you have to know that I would have come. I would have been here in a -"
"That was months ago. I’m over it."
"I’m not." George shifted his hand slightly, his pinky touching hers. "She made me think that you didn’t call, that you didn’t want me around. I only found out about the message the other night during a fight."
Callie moved her hand away. "That sucks for you."
"No, it sucked for you. I’m sorry you were alone and -"
"I wasn’t alone. Mark was with me." She looked back at him and felt a surge of happiness at the hollow look in his eyes. "So ... was it worth it?"
"What?"
"You left a woman who loved you enough to want you there while she was having a miscarriage, a miscarriage I might add that was brought about by stress ... you left her for a woman who could hide the fact that your child, *your* child, George, was dying." Callie took a step back and pulled off her gloves. "You got the blond, stacked supermodel. You get to go to bed with the dream and wake up to the nightmare. You must be so proud. Stitch him up, Dr. O’Malley. I’m done."
George watched her go.
And his eyes were so blurred with tears that it took him three times as long to suture the patient.
*~*~*~*~*~
Mark was in the nursery with Jack when Callie arrived to pick him up. She stood gazing through the window, watching as Mark helped him write something on his homework. Her son was listening intently to whatever Sloan was saying and when he bent his head over the paper to concentrate on the task at hand, Mark glanced up and met her eyes and the smile faded from his face. She took a deep breath. It was going to be a long night. Sloan had avoided her all day and had not met her for lunch.
Jack saw her open the door and dropped his pencil, racing into her arms. "I didn’t do nothing else bad all day. Can we have a takeout instead of meatloaf?"
The last thing Callie wanted to do was reward him for his behavior, but the prospect of cooking after the day she’d had was just too much. "Sure."
"McDonalds?"
Callie shook her head. "No junk."
"That sucks." Jack raced back to the table and gathered his bookbag, one that Mark had helped him pick out (Superman). He messily crumpled his papers into the side and hefted it onto his back, holding out his hand to Mark. "Let’s go home, Dad!"
Callie rolled her eyes when Mark sailed past her without so much as a word. She followed behind them, listening to Jack ramble on and on about his music class and when he announced that he wanted to play drums, she had to fight hard not to groan. In the car, Jack talked so much that he didn’t seem to notice that the adults were only speaking to him. Callie called ahead, ordering Chinese and when they arrived, Mark went in to get it.
"Mom?"
"What, Jack?"
"Are you still *real* mad at me?"
"I’m still *kinda* mad."
"Do I still have to go to my room?"
"Yes."
"Hell."
Callie bit her bottom lip. "From now on, when you say a bad word, I’m taking a dollar from your piggy bank."
"Every time!?"
"Every time."
"Well, damn! I don’t got that much money in there, Mom! That could be a trillion, zillion dollars."
"Right now you owe me two." Callie turned in her seat to look at him. She had to smile at the look of abject horror on his face. Her son liked money more than a stock broker. "If you don’t say anything else bad then I’ll give it back to you with your allowance on Friday."
"If I don’t say nothing bad at all then I should get double my allowance."
"Don’t push it."
Jack stared at her for a few seconds. "You got sad face. Is it ‘cause I hit that old nun-bat with the paint?"
Callie laughed. She shouldn’t have laughed, but she had called the nuns at their local convent nun-bats growing up as well. She was still laughing when Mark opened the door and set the food in the floorboard. He followed her gaze and grinned at Jack. "What’s so funny, buddy?"
"It’s okay to call the teachers at my school nun-bats, but I have to pay for cussin’. Don’t that beat shit?"
"Three dollars, Jack."
"THREE DOLLARS!?" the little boy squealed. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH CANDY I CAN BUY WITH THAT!?"
"Then stop swearing."
Jack sighed. "I swear this sucks! I don’t gotta pay for that!"
*~*~*~*~*~
By the time Jack went to bed, he owed Callie seven dollars and he sat sobbing on the bed when she took it out of his bank. When she put the large glass pig back on his dresser, he leaped out of the bed and grabbed it, taking it under the covers with him. He refused to kiss her goodnight and didn’t speak to Mark on principle alone. Fifteen minutes later, he was sound asleep when Callie checked on him and she sat next to him, kissing his face one time for every dollar she had taken.
Mark was not in their bedroom when she closed Jack’s door. She walked downstairs to make sure the house was locked and then saw the light on in Gertie’s old room. She sat down on the window seat in the breakfast nook, grappling with her tears. Their first real argument as a couple and he was already avoiding her at work, at home, and not sleeping with her. It took every ounce of her strength to do so, but she got to her feet and walked into the bedroom without knocking.
He was lying under the cover reading a book and she had a mental image hitting him hard enough with it that the spine would break over his head. Glancing at her briefly, he said, "Is Jack okay? I can’t imagine that being forced to sit in his room and watch his mother rob him is a great feeling."
Callie held up her hand and started back out the door. "Nevermind."
"Wait." He put the book down and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don’t mean to crawl your ass about him. I just ... I missed him after dinner and hearing him cry because of the money -"
"He’s only grounded for three days. I’ve grounded him before."
"The money thing is new."
"George suggested that -"
"O’Malley!? You’re taking parenting advice from O’Malley! The same O’Malley who left you hanging at the hospital when your baby died?!"
"He told me today that Izzie erased the message and he didn’t know."
"Oh! Is that why you’ve stopped talking to me? Is that why you started such a bullshit argument with me today? You want me to get pissed and go so you can start fresh with -"
"What I came in here to say to you is that I’m sorry. You’re right. I knew all about your past and I still wanted to be with you. I still *want* to be with you, but I’m scared. You made me feel things last night that I’ve never felt before and I’m terrified. It’s not your past that upsets me ... it’s your future." She shrugged and the tears that had burned her eyes fell down her cheeks. "Because I *know* that I don’t want to spend one night sleeping without you and here you are ... completely fine without me."
"I’m not fine," Mark replied, pushing the cover back and getting to his feet. "I’m as far from fine as a person can be. The only reason I am in this room instead of yours -"
"Ours."
"Instead of ours," he amended, "is because I’m scared, too. I’m new at this. And ... having you kick me out of *our* bedroom was not something else I could hear today."
"Something else?"
"You basically told me that you don’t believe anything I’ve been saying to you all these months."
"No, I didn’t."
"Yes, you did." Mark crossed the room and stood before her. "You did. You let two bitchy nurses get under your skin and you’re stronger than that. *We* are stronger than that and-"
"What did you just do when I mentioned George!? You automatically assumed that I was trying to kick you out for him! You saw the mess he made of me and as bad as that was ... living it was worse! I don’t want him! I want you!"
"I’m not remotely concerned about your ex-husband. I think you know the difference between a man and a child and you know what you need." He smiled his cocky, come hither smile. "What I need is for you to trust me more than you fear me."
"I do trust you. I do."
"Then let’s go to bed, baby. We’ll call this one a draw."
"You have to still sleep with me after a fight ... even if you're pissed. You have to still talk to me ... even if you don't want to because anything less than that -"
"I get it, Callie. I will."
The phone rang suddenly and shrilly, causing Callie to jump and look at her watch. She raced into the kitchen and lifted the cordless. "Hello?"
"Callie?"
"‘Stina?"
"I just beat Izzie Stevens within an inch of her life and, well, that’s an exaggeration, but she looks way worse than me and now I’m in jail. Come get me," Cristina replied.
"WHAT!?!?"
"Big Mama Morton is looking at me funny. Can you hurry your ass up before someone makes me her bitch?"
"I’m on my way."
"Thanks."
Callie hung up and buried her face in her hands. A second later, Mark hugged her and she took a deep breath. "Can you keep an eye on Jack?"
"What happened?"
She told him.
Mark swore and followed her upstairs, watching her dig a pair of sneakers from her closet. When she reached for her purse, he caught her arm and pulled her against him. "I’m sorry, too."
"You shouldn’t have yelled ‘fuck you’ at me."
"Hence the apology." He leaned down and kissed her. "Our first day back at work officially *sucked*."
"Maybe I’ll be back home before midnight and we can salvage it."
"I’ll be here." He kissed her again. "For good."
*~*~*~*~*~
Sex didn’t happen. Callie wound up wriggling through red tape at the police department until five in the morning. By the time she dropped Cristina off and drove home during rush hour, there was barely time to shower and dress for work. Mark took care of Jack’s breakfast and his snacks while she rushed around the house in a sleep deprived daze. After leaving him at school with strict orders to stay there and to stay out of trouble, they headed to work.
Callie spotted Izzie right off the bat. Cristina was right ... she looked much worse and considering the reason behind the fight, Callie was overjoyed. Apparently Yang had asked Izzie point blank about the phone message telling George that Callie was losing their baby and the blond had not denied it. Izzie had *laughed* and said she doubted Callie’s pregnancy at all. So, Cristina had given her an old school beat down in the parking lot at Joe’s.
Cristina joined Callie in the hallway, shocking everyone who saw her by looping an arm through her friend’s. Izzie cleared her throat and said, "I wonder who the man is in their relationship. Callie’s taller, but Cristina has the emotional handicaps."
Dr. Hahn appeared, flipping through a chart and ignoring the laughter around her. She was oblivious to the fact that Callie was physically holding Cristina back or that Izzie looked like she had gone two rounds with a mack truck. Hahn cleared her throat and said, "I have open heart surgery in thirty minutes. Who wants in?"
There was a chorus of ‘me’ from all directions and then Izzie stepped forward and said, "I did really well on the last one, Dr. Hahn. You said you’d request me again and I’ve been reading up on everything. I think I’ll go into cardio."
"You’re in," Hahn replied, still not looking up.
Callie cleared her throat, stepped forward, and tapped Hahn on the shoulder. "You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."
Hahn slammed the chart and glared at the black haired woman. "Excuse me? What did you just say to me?"
"You’re taking Izzie Stevens ... willingly taking Izzie Stevens ... into a surgery that deals with a heart?" Callie raised a brow. "I realize that you haven’t been here very long, but surely you realize that your star pupil here is the one who stole the heart for Denny Duquette."
"I’m sorry? Stole?" Dr. Hahn studied Callie’s face. "You can’t steal a -"
"You can falsify medical records, though." Callie glanced at Izzie, who was frozen in one spot. "She cut his LVAD wire to make him *appear* sicker than your patient, the rightful recipient, by the way. She was in love, though, so that excuses it ... in her head at least. Your patient died, right? Left behind a family?"
"WHAT!?" Hahn screamed, turning to glare at Izzie.
"It’s true," Cristina blurted. "I was there. She wanted Duquette at the top of the list and your patient was technically sicker so she took matters into her own hands."
Izzie took a step back, staring into the faces of all her peers. She saw nothing but disdain reflected back at her, even from the crowd she had entertained with stories of how she had gotten bruised. Dr. Hahn stalked across the room toward her, chart dangling at her side. "Stevens, I refuse to call you a doctor from this point on. I don’t know how or why you have a job here, but as far as I’m concerned you’re a janitor! Don’t approach me for surgery and don’t speak to me at all."
"But, I -"
Hahn held up a hand, right in her face, and looked at Cristina. "Yang, you’re in."
"Thank you," Cristina replied, her tone calm and gracious. She watched Hahn stalk down the corridor and smiled up at Callie. "You really do kick ass."
"You don’t do so bad yourself," Callie said, nudging her.
"What the hell?" Meredith asked, nostrils flaring as she glared first at Callie, then at Cristina. "You were supposed to keep your mouth shut! You were supposed to not talk about it! Ever!"
Cristina got toe to toe with Meredith and Callie put an arm between them. "Stop," Callie said.
Cristina shoved her arm down and sneered, "You know how we all kept saying that George was a bastard for not coming to see Callie while she miscarried? Well, that *thing* that you seem happy to defend," Cristina pointed an accusing finger at Izzie, "That *thing* who almost got us all fired ... she deleted the message after she listened to it and went about her vacation like she didn’t have a clue! She kept it from George, Meredith! She purposely kept him in the dark so her perfect little fairy tale would not be cut short. He had a right to know! He had a right to say goodbye to his baby and -"
Meredith spun and looked at Izzie. "Is that true?"
Izzie looked left and right. All around her, people were whispering and looking at her the same way the rich girls had looked at her on the school bus when they saw where she lived for the first time. Saying nothing, she turned on her heel and walked through the crowd.
As soon as she was clear ... she ran.
*~*~*~*~*~
Mark glanced at the clock. It was twelve thirty and Callie wasn’t in the cafeteria. She was also not in surgery. He paged her again and frowned. Surely she wasn’t still angry at him. Having already finished his lunch, he got to his feet and walked to the table where Cristina and Meredith were in deep discussion. "Hey, jail bird, where’s Callie?"
Cristina smiled up at him. "Aww, did she stand you up?"
"No, inmate six six six. Have you seen her?"
"She was sleeping in the second floor on call room earlier," Meredith supplied. "She’s exhausted."
Mark poked Cristina in the arm. "She needs better friends. Ones that don't keep her out all night."
Yang shrugged. "I did it all for her."
"I’m sure she’s grateful."
He headed to the second floor on call room, stopping to buy a rose from one of the candy stripers in the front lobby. Whistling, he made small talk in the elevator and grinned when he pushed the door open. That smile faded fast, however and he squeezed the rose so hard that the thorns broke the skin of his palm.
George, who had been kneeling beside the bunk watching Callie sleep, shot to his feet. "I - I was just -"
Mark saw the way that Callie’s scrub shirt was up, revealing several inches of her stomach and his mind went wild. Surely the other man had not been *groping* her in her slumber. He tossed the rose in the corner and stalked forward, grabbing George by the labels of his hideous corduroy jacket. "Stay the hell away from her!" he barked, slamming him back against the wall.
Callie gasped and sat up, disoriented. She blinked when she saw George’s dangling feet and shot out of the bed, hurrying forward. "Mark! Mark, put him down!"
Mark dropped him. George stumbled and almost fell, but caught himself against the bunks at the last minute, then he darted out of the room without a word. Taking a deep breath, Mark turned to face her and was shocked to see her smiling. He was braced for her wraith. "I think he was taking advantage of the fact that you weren’t awake to feel you up."
Callie looked down and gasped, pulling her shirt the right way. "Go after him and kill him."
Mark started toward the door, but she caught his hand. She was about to say something funny when she felt how sticky it was. Turning it over, she gasped when she saw the blood. "Oh my god. Maybe you already did."
He shook his head and retrieved the rose, handing it to her. "It’s not the most suave flower delivery, but there you go."
She brought it to her nose and breathed deep, smiling at him. "Nothing says I’m sorry I was an ass quite like a red-"
Reaching out, he caught her behind the neck and pulled her forward, planting a kiss on her that left them both breathless. It was her turn to throw the flower and she did just that when he picked her up and urged her legs around his waist. Gripping his broad shoulders, she held him close. She grunted when her back roughly hit the wall, but he didn’t break the kiss, didn’t ask if she was okay. And it drove her wild.
He slipped his hand under her shirt and shoved her bra upward, angrily tweaking her nipple. She tightened her legs around him as her head fell back and he latched onto her neck, nipping and biting. Her hands moved to his head, but only for a moment. He pushed her legs from his waist and turned her, forcing her face first against the door. Callie’s breath caught when he reached around her waist and untied her scrub pants. "Mark-"
"Shhh." He shoved them and her panties down her legs, stopping at mid thigh. Kneading the flesh of her ass, he pulled her hips back slightly and bent her forward just a little. Her palms were flat against the wall when he lowered his own pants and slammed into her. This time his name was a harsh cry and he put a hand over her mouth as he drove against her.
Callie scratched at the door, looking for purchase as he fucked her harder than she had ever been fucked in her life. One of his hands stayed on her mouth as her cries intensified and the other moved around her, fondling her swollen clit until she came so hard that all she could do was bite down on his hand. She was momentarily grateful that it wasn’t the bloody one and then he was doing something inside her that caused her to come again, faster than the first time and it took all of her control to keep standing at all.
Mark came with a growl and tugged her hair, urging her head around so he could kiss her over her shoulder. It was wet, as sloppy as their joining had been. They both moaned their displeasure when he slipped from her wet center and grabbed a box of tissue. He cleaned her up himself, kneeling down in front of her to kiss her stomach and her hips as he did so. When he stood again, she was smiling at him.
"What?" he asked.
"You’re completely forgiven."
"You are, too."
She retied her pants and said, "That was really, really good, Mark."
"You like it rough. I haven’t forgotten." He pinned her back against the wall again and devoured her lips in a kiss that held the promise of things yet to come. "If you don’t kick your ex-husband’s ass ... I will."
"I’ll handle it," she promised, pulling him back down.
Both their pagers went off a moment later and Sloan made a face. "God help the patient if we both have to scrub in on this. My mind will not allow me to do my job if you’re in the vicinity."
Callie stood on her tiptoes and whispered, "Having you in the vicinity doesn’t mess with my mind so much as my body. Think about that."
"You are nothing but trouble."
"You can handle it," she replied as she opened the door.
"You’re damn right I can. And I will just as soon as we both catch a break again."
*~*~*~*~*
Callie didn’t get the chance to "handle" George for the next three weeks. Cristina wasn’t sure where he had gotten off to, but he was definitely not working and Izzie was not saying a word to anyone. By the time O’Malley reappeared, the incident in the on call room was the furthest thing from Callie’s mind. Between shopping for Mark’s new car (an SUV, thank you very much) and dealing with Jack’s utter hatred of all things academic, she was having trouble concentrating on how to spell her own name and had no time for drama. So, when George approached her looking like a kicked puppy, her first instinct was to ask him what was wrong instead of punching him for possibly groping her.
"I broke up with Izzie," he told her, looking like he had just informed her that her lottery ticket was worth twenty million bucks. "That’s what I wanted to tell you the other day when Mark tried to choke me."
Callie simply glared at him.
"So, I’m not with her," George continued. "I just wanted to let you know. You were right ... about the nightmare."
"And I care because?"
"Maybe we could talk?"
"What do we have to talk about?"
"I could use a friend right now and we -"
"Were never friends." Callie shook her head. "I’m sorry that Snow White turned out to be Snow Wart, but I don’t care."
"All I’m asking is for you to-"
"No." Callie gathered up her chart. "I’m with Mark. With him, George."
"Are you in love with him?"
"Yes," she replied instantly. "I’m in love with him. My son is in love with him. We’re a family and we’re happy. So ... I don’t care."
"No one talks to me anymore, Callie! No one! I don’t have anyone else."
Callie took a deep breath and looked at him. He seemed so much smaller, greasier, and spineless than she remembered. "No one talks to you because the *you* that left me for her isn’t George O’Malley. You’re not the heart in the elevator guy or the family guy or the lovable sidekick anymore. You’re a man who cheated, a man who said nothing to his then wife when he came back and found out that she had lost his baby, and you’re a man who - no, you know exactly what you’ve become. And I don’t want to know you."
She turned on her heel and started to walk away, but she turned back toward him. He looked hopeful and she almost laughed in his face. "By the way, it’s creepy as hell for someone to watch you while you’re asleep so don’t come near me when I’m napping in the on call room again."
"Callie-"
"And if you had *anything* to do with my shirt being up ... bend over and kiss your ass goodbye."
"I didn’t pull your -"
"Oh, Gimpy Smurf is back in our midst," Mark said, sliding his chart across the station to the nurse on duty. He put his arms around Callie’s waist and kissed her neck. "I guess it was too much to hope that Gargamel had finally caught one, huh?"
"No more television for you, Sloan," Callie told him. "You’re worse than Jack with the cartoon references. My brain needs adult conversation."
"Okay, I can do adult," Mark replied. "It looks like the suicidal mother fucker is back in our midst. I guess it was too much to hope that he had taken care of it himself so ... here’s my warning, dumbass, you talking to her? Death wish. Keep walking."
"That was harsh," Callie said, watching George slump down the hallway. "And nicely done, babe."
"Thanks, gorgeous." He put his mouth against her ear so that only she could hear him. "My body needs adult stimulation so how about you duck into the closet with me and -"
"Dr. Sloan," Chief Webber called, stepping out of the elevator. He glanced down at Sloan’s hands, which were dangerously low on Callie’s belly and cleared his throat. "I could write you both up for inappropriate touching."
"This would be inappropriate." Mark moved his hand and groped her breast, causing her to smack his hand and Webber to look at the ceiling. "Aww, Chief, are you blushing?"
"I need to hire an uglier staff." Webber glanced back down at them and relaxed when he saw that they were merely holding hands. "Sloan, I need you to do a consult for me."
"Who’s the patient?"
"Me," Richard replied. "It’s - er - private."
"Going." Callie turned and gave Mark a quick kiss. "Our plane leaves at seven so if you can’t make it to the airport, I’ll smooth it over with Jack."
"I still don’t understand why you have to go see Addison for *three* days."
"Because Jack only has three day weekends few and far between."
"Fine, fine," Mark replied, giving her another kiss. "I’ll be there, by the way. To see you off."
"Okay."
Webber tilted his head to the side, watching Callie walk away. Sloan was doing the same thing and when her laughter carried back to them as she stopped to talk to Dr. Yang, Chief Webber grinned. "She's happy."
"She is," Mark replied, his gaze still pinned to her. "So am I."
"Her son is calling you 'dad'."
With a grin, Sloan nodded. "Yep. He is calling me dad."
"You have to be extremely careful when there are children involved, Mark. Because if you hurt her then you hurt him by default."
"Not happening." Mark shook his head. "I'd die first."
"Well, don't die before you remove this damn triple nipple. I'm getting divorced so if I plan on dating the ladies ... I need two nipples and not three. And I don't want scarring, either."
"Great. Triple nipples and no scarring. Just what I wanted to do with my life."
*~*~*~*~*~
"You're wearing the shirt I bought you, Dad!" Jack cried, jumping to his feet in the chair and holding out his arms.
"I sure am," Mark replied, hugging him. The shirt in question was hideous, covered in train engines and colorful enough to be Hawaiian, but not quite making it. He wore it all the time because Jack always noticed and always had the same proud grin on his face when he saw it. Callie had offered to 'accidentally' bleach it, but he had staunchly refused. Jack had spent *his* allowance on something for Mark instead of himself and that was priceless. "Will you please be good on the plane?"
"Yep. Look, Mom bought me a book that she's going to read to me!"
Mark accepted the copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. He raised a brow at Callie. "Isn't he kinda young to be as weird as you?"
Callie smiled at him. "Just because I made you wait in line with me at the Sci-Fi convention to get a Weasley's autograph ... doesn't make me weird."
"No, the fact that you dressed like a witch made you weird. Actually, I guess not because everyone was dressed like that. Freaks." He leaned forward and kissed her. "You were the hottest witch, though."
"You were a hot muggle." She winked at him. "Are you going to miss us?"
"I already do. You sure I can't change your mind?"
"I'm sure." Callie got to her feet when their flight was called. "Mark?"
"What, baby."
"Be good."
"You know I will." He caught her around the waist. "I love you."
It was the first time he had said it outright. He had said 'I'm in love with you' and 'I love being with you', but never simply stated it as fact. She took a deep breath, enjoying the effect it had on her. "I love you, too."
"I love us all!" Jack said, hugging both of their legs. "Family!"
"Family!" Mark agreed, lifting him up and tossing him into the air. "You mind your mother and remind her to call me when you land, okay?"
"'Kay!"
Setting the child back on his feet, Mark hugged Callie one last time. "*You* be good."
"If I can't .. I'll name it after you," she replied innocently.
"Watch me not laugh."
He stood at the window long after their plane had disappeared into the darkness.
*~*~*~*~*~
Chief Webber sat beside Derek at the Emerald City Bar. Richard peeled the label on his bottle of water as he watched the door. Sloan had agreed to meet him at eight thirty, but it was rapidly approaching nine fifteen and he was getting antsy. "I don't know how to do this whole dating thing," he said.
Derek asked for another beer and turned, gazing out at the female patrons of the bar. "Do you want to have sex or a meaningful relationship?"
Richard choked on his water and grabbed a napkin, blotting his mouth. "I just want to buy someone a drink. And talk."
"You're a dying breed."
Mark joined them at the bar a moment later, ordering a double shot of tequila. Derek leaned forward, gazing at him in shock. "Hard liquor? Callie loosened the ball and chain tonight?"
"She's flying to Los Angeles to see Addison. For three days."
"Ooooh. The current and the ex." Derek held up his beer bottle. "Once they compare notes you're a dead man."
"Shut up," Mark snapped, draining his shot and asking for another double.
Richard raised his eyebrows, glaring at Sloan. "You're off tomorrow, right?"
"Yep."
"Do you have a designated driver?"
"You," Mark told him, motioning for another refill. "I'll help you score a date and you help me get home safe."
"How are you going to help me score a date if you're drunk?"
"Oh, right." Mark turned on the stool and gazed out at the crowd of women. "Slim pickings."
Erica Hahn made the mistake of meeting his eye and he beckoned her to the bar. She glared at him the entire time she approached. "What?" she snapped.
"Chief Webber wants to show you how to dance."
Erica looked at Richard, who was staring at the liquor bottles behind the bar. "Is Chief Webber suddenly mute?"
Mark nudged his boss so roughly that he almost crashed into Derek. Webber choked again and turned, smiling at the blond. "Good evening, Dr. Hahn."
"If you want to dance with me you have to call me Erica." She held out her hand and waited for the other man to take it. "Don't grope my ass, don't grind any part of your body against mine and try to keep up."
"Damn," Derek and Mark said together as Webber followed Hahn onto the dance floor and put everyone around him to shame.
An hour later, Webber and Hahn were slow dancing and Mark was tipsy as hell. For the fifth time, he checked his cell phone and realized that it only felt like time was moving at warp speed. "I'm sure they've landed and are on their way to Addison's," he assured Derek for lack of anything better to do.
Derek clapped him on the shoulder. "If you start crying, you're on your own."
"It's just three days. Two nights alone." Mark grimaced suddenly. "Two nights alone. In our bed. With her smell and --- I'm sleeping on the couch."
"She really is the one, huh?"
"She really is the one." Mark grinned.
"Because I can't imagine you'd wear that shiteous shirt for just anyone."
Smoothing his hand over his chest, Mark shook his head. "This is for Jack. And I make it look good."
"Dr. Sloan?"
Mark turned and stared blearily into the face of someone he vaguely recognized. "Elise, right?"
The woman didn't reply. Instead she stepped between his legs and planted the biggest, wettest kiss on him he'd ever received. It was disgusting and whatever fruity alcoholic beverage she was drinking gagged him when her tongue met his. He pushed her back, rougher than he should have, and Webber caught the woman before she could bust her ass. She giggled maniacally and took off back to the table of nurses in the corner. Derek narrowed his eyes when they all put their heads together.
Mark was too drunk to realize it right now ... but Derek had no doubt that his previous conquests were up to something.
Big.
*~*~*~*~*~
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: The plot *had* to thicken sooner or later. Gratuitous character bashing ahead. ;)
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
*~*~*~*~*~
Mark was at his locker, taping a photo of himself, Jack, and Callie, to the inside of the door, when someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned, saw George O’Malley standing behind him and decided to leave the door open long enough for the shorter man to see the photograph clearly. It was a great picture, taken at Fun Forest. Jack was holding an ice cream and had just given Mark a bite and Callie was looking up at them, smiling broadly. He saw O’Malley’s eyes on the photo and smirked a little, pleased with himself.
"What can I do for you, O’Malley?"
"I found Callie’s son hiding in the men’s bathroom a few minutes ago and she’s in surgery." George tore his gaze away from the photo and looked at Mark. "He won’t come out with me because I’m a stranger so I was hoping you could -"
"Which bathroom?"
"Lobby."
Mark nodded and left the room.
George looked back at the photo, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he did.
*~
Chief Webber stood in the restroom trying to talk to Jack through the stall door when Mark arrived. Sloan could hear the little boy sobbing softly and his brow furrowed when he heard him whimpering for his mother. "Hey buddy," Mark called, stopping just outside the door. "Your mom’s working right now. Can you come out and talk to me?"
"Dad?"
"What’s wrong, Jack?" Mark asked, ignoring Chief Webber’s raised eyebrows and shock at Jack’s choice of words.
The door opened and the little boy peered up at him. "I did a bad thing. My ass is going straight to hell. Sister Mary Hazel said so."
Mark squatted down next to him. "What could you possibly have done in less than an hour on your very first day?"
Jack’s bottom lip trembled. "I got real mad because they didn’t start with finger painting like last time so I threw the paint at the teacher to remind her."
Callie had told Mark about the importance of not changing the routine too much for Jack. He needed things a certain way at all times, hence Monday meatloaf, Tuesday’s tacos, and all the other repetitive aspects of his life. He could usually handle small amounts of change, like take out for dinner or Spaghetti (his favorite food) on a Sunday instead of Thursday, but too much at once would usually cause a temper tantrum the likes of which the world had never seen. Jack had to be prepared, very well, for anything that was altered in his schedule. Taking a deep breath, Mark took his hand and said, "That wasn’t very nice. Did you apologize?"
"No. When it popped all over her head and made her blue ... I called her a damn smurf. And then I hitted her with red so she would look like Optimus Prime instead. So I ran here while she was still blind."
"First of all, you can’t just leave school. Second, you’re going to apologize to your teacher and you are never, ever going to do that again. Do you understand?"
"I want my mom," Jack wailed.
Mark pulled him against his chest and hugged him tightly, rubbing circles on his back as he did so. "Your mom would want me to take you back to school, Jack-o. And she’d want you to say you’re sorry, too."
"Can’t I just see her for a few minutes. Just a few? I want her."
"Her surgery should be over by now," Webber interjected. "Why don’t you page her, Dr. Sloan."
"Yeah," Jack said, leaning back to gaze at Mark. "Why don’t you page her?"
"Okay. Let’s go call." Mark picked him up and Jack put his head on his shoulder, hugging him.
As luck would have it, they ran into Callie in the elevator and she panicked the moment she saw her son being cradled against Mark’s chest. He had to reassure her quickly because she was frantically tearing at the child’s clothing trying to find the source of his tears. "He’s not hurt," Mark said, handing the little boy off to her. "He did a bad thing. I was going to handle it, but he insisted on seeing you."
In the conference room, with the blinds wide open for everyone to see, Jack told his mother what happened. When she angrily informed him that he was grounded to his room for three days, he slumped back in his chair with his arms crossed and the gaggle of co-workers who walked by to peer in at the little boy would later swear that a mini Callie was in their midst, his expression and body language so much like hers that it was frightening.
They both walked him back to the school, where Jack submissively apologized and left with the paint spattered teacher (who looked at him like he was a juvenile Jack the Ripper). Callie lost her temper with the staff, shocking Mark with her choice of words and the harsh way she delivered them. She made it very, very clear that if her son wandered off the premises again she would file a lawsuit for negligence and then she stormed out, Mark hot on her heels. He took her hand in the parking lot of the hospital and felt her stiffen. "Hey, are you okay? Cal?"
"Always page me when it’s about Jack. Always."
Her tone forced him to stop walking. He still had her hand so she stopped with him. "It wasn’t an emergency. I was taking him back and -"
"I’m his mother."
"I understand that, but - well, you were kind of hard on him, weren’t you? That’s not your thing."
"Whatever." She pulled her hand from his and glared at him. "Apparently watching people in the shower is *your* thing."
"What?"
Callie took a step back when he reached for her. "Olivia and Elise were my nurses today during surgery. They were talking about you and how you liked to watch them in the shower and -"
"Whoa!" Mark closed the distance between them and put his hands on her hips, holding her close. "My past is my past, Callie. It’s there. You know all about it so don’t get pissed at me today for it."
"They’re acting like -"
"I don’t care. And neither should you." He moved one hand up to her face, cupping it. "It has been almost a year since you miscarried. Almost a year since the day that I touched anyone."
"Why?" she asked, dumbstruck.
"Because condoms are not one hundred percent. Watching you lose your baby made me realize that I couldn’t handle another child of mine being aborted so ... I stopped. And I knew that you weren’t ready yet so I waited until you were."
"You really expect me to believe that? You couldn’t even go sixty days with Addison." She saw the shock on his face. "Yeah, she told me."
"Well, you’re no Addison. I had no trouble waiting at all for you."
"Are you actually going to stand there and tell me that you knew you wanted to be with me since my *miscarriage*?"
"Have you not asked yourself why I’m keeping a locker in the resident’s lounge instead of with the attendings? Why I was sitting two feet away from your locker every single morning? Why I went out of my way to find reasons to talk to you and why ... when I saw that you wanted Jack ... I found the best lawyer in town?" Mark spread his feet a little and ran his hand over his chin. It was something he did when he was agitated. "I don’t understand why I need to justify anything with you after last night. Callie, what we shared ..."
"I was the butt of the joke for weeks after George left me. People laughed at my expense and acted like *I* had done something wrong. I don’t want to be the butt of the joke again, Mark."
"You being pissed at me for something that happened *months* ago? That’s a joke."
"You letting me think that last night was something special? That’s an even bigger one! You didn’t do anything with me that you haven’t done with half of this hospital. The shower, picking me up and -"
"You’re wrong!" he snapped. "I did something with you last night that I have *never* done! I made love!"
"I bet you say that to all the girls. Especially the ones who-"
"FUCK YOU!" Mark spun on his heel and stalked back into the hospital, leaving Callie standing alone with her mouth hanging open.
*~*~*~*~*~
"Is - is your son okay?"
Callie glanced up from the pin that she was inserting into a wrist and met George’s eyes. It was the first time he had spoken to her since the carnival and even longer since he had bothered to look at her. She nodded. "He’s fine."
"He’s a good looking kid."
"Thanks," Callie replied, looking back down as she began to screw the pin into place. "I didn’t have anything to do with that, but thanks."
"I found him this morning. Crying, I mean. He wouldn’t come out and talk to me because I was, as he put it, a damned stranger."
Callie chuckled behind her mask. "I don’t know what to do about his foul mouth. I’ve tried everything."
"Do you give him an allowance?" George asked, shifting a little to hold the sides of the incision back.
"Yes. Probably too much."
George smiled. "Make him put money in a jar every time he swears. It only took me a week to realize that my choice of words cost me a bundle so I stopped."
"How old were you?"
"Oh." George’s brow furrowed. "Thirteen or fourteen."
"He’s *five*."
"Try it anyway. If he likes money he’ll get it fast enough."
Callie nodded and lifted the final pin, glancing back up at him. "How’s your mother?"
"She’s fine."
"Tell her ‘hi’ for me."
George watched her work for a few seconds before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was so low that she stopped using the device in her hand and leaned closer. "What?" she asked.
"I said I didn’t know. About the miscarriage. I - I didn’t get the message."
"You didn’t get the message?"
He shook his head. "We were out of town. She - she erased it, Callie. She listened to it and erased the voicemail. I - you have to know that I would have come. I would have been here in a -"
"That was months ago. I’m over it."
"I’m not." George shifted his hand slightly, his pinky touching hers. "She made me think that you didn’t call, that you didn’t want me around. I only found out about the message the other night during a fight."
Callie moved her hand away. "That sucks for you."
"No, it sucked for you. I’m sorry you were alone and -"
"I wasn’t alone. Mark was with me." She looked back at him and felt a surge of happiness at the hollow look in his eyes. "So ... was it worth it?"
"What?"
"You left a woman who loved you enough to want you there while she was having a miscarriage, a miscarriage I might add that was brought about by stress ... you left her for a woman who could hide the fact that your child, *your* child, George, was dying." Callie took a step back and pulled off her gloves. "You got the blond, stacked supermodel. You get to go to bed with the dream and wake up to the nightmare. You must be so proud. Stitch him up, Dr. O’Malley. I’m done."
George watched her go.
And his eyes were so blurred with tears that it took him three times as long to suture the patient.
*~*~*~*~*~
Mark was in the nursery with Jack when Callie arrived to pick him up. She stood gazing through the window, watching as Mark helped him write something on his homework. Her son was listening intently to whatever Sloan was saying and when he bent his head over the paper to concentrate on the task at hand, Mark glanced up and met her eyes and the smile faded from his face. She took a deep breath. It was going to be a long night. Sloan had avoided her all day and had not met her for lunch.
Jack saw her open the door and dropped his pencil, racing into her arms. "I didn’t do nothing else bad all day. Can we have a takeout instead of meatloaf?"
The last thing Callie wanted to do was reward him for his behavior, but the prospect of cooking after the day she’d had was just too much. "Sure."
"McDonalds?"
Callie shook her head. "No junk."
"That sucks." Jack raced back to the table and gathered his bookbag, one that Mark had helped him pick out (Superman). He messily crumpled his papers into the side and hefted it onto his back, holding out his hand to Mark. "Let’s go home, Dad!"
Callie rolled her eyes when Mark sailed past her without so much as a word. She followed behind them, listening to Jack ramble on and on about his music class and when he announced that he wanted to play drums, she had to fight hard not to groan. In the car, Jack talked so much that he didn’t seem to notice that the adults were only speaking to him. Callie called ahead, ordering Chinese and when they arrived, Mark went in to get it.
"Mom?"
"What, Jack?"
"Are you still *real* mad at me?"
"I’m still *kinda* mad."
"Do I still have to go to my room?"
"Yes."
"Hell."
Callie bit her bottom lip. "From now on, when you say a bad word, I’m taking a dollar from your piggy bank."
"Every time!?"
"Every time."
"Well, damn! I don’t got that much money in there, Mom! That could be a trillion, zillion dollars."
"Right now you owe me two." Callie turned in her seat to look at him. She had to smile at the look of abject horror on his face. Her son liked money more than a stock broker. "If you don’t say anything else bad then I’ll give it back to you with your allowance on Friday."
"If I don’t say nothing bad at all then I should get double my allowance."
"Don’t push it."
Jack stared at her for a few seconds. "You got sad face. Is it ‘cause I hit that old nun-bat with the paint?"
Callie laughed. She shouldn’t have laughed, but she had called the nuns at their local convent nun-bats growing up as well. She was still laughing when Mark opened the door and set the food in the floorboard. He followed her gaze and grinned at Jack. "What’s so funny, buddy?"
"It’s okay to call the teachers at my school nun-bats, but I have to pay for cussin’. Don’t that beat shit?"
"Three dollars, Jack."
"THREE DOLLARS!?" the little boy squealed. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH CANDY I CAN BUY WITH THAT!?"
"Then stop swearing."
Jack sighed. "I swear this sucks! I don’t gotta pay for that!"
*~*~*~*~*~
By the time Jack went to bed, he owed Callie seven dollars and he sat sobbing on the bed when she took it out of his bank. When she put the large glass pig back on his dresser, he leaped out of the bed and grabbed it, taking it under the covers with him. He refused to kiss her goodnight and didn’t speak to Mark on principle alone. Fifteen minutes later, he was sound asleep when Callie checked on him and she sat next to him, kissing his face one time for every dollar she had taken.
Mark was not in their bedroom when she closed Jack’s door. She walked downstairs to make sure the house was locked and then saw the light on in Gertie’s old room. She sat down on the window seat in the breakfast nook, grappling with her tears. Their first real argument as a couple and he was already avoiding her at work, at home, and not sleeping with her. It took every ounce of her strength to do so, but she got to her feet and walked into the bedroom without knocking.
He was lying under the cover reading a book and she had a mental image hitting him hard enough with it that the spine would break over his head. Glancing at her briefly, he said, "Is Jack okay? I can’t imagine that being forced to sit in his room and watch his mother rob him is a great feeling."
Callie held up her hand and started back out the door. "Nevermind."
"Wait." He put the book down and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don’t mean to crawl your ass about him. I just ... I missed him after dinner and hearing him cry because of the money -"
"He’s only grounded for three days. I’ve grounded him before."
"The money thing is new."
"George suggested that -"
"O’Malley!? You’re taking parenting advice from O’Malley! The same O’Malley who left you hanging at the hospital when your baby died?!"
"He told me today that Izzie erased the message and he didn’t know."
"Oh! Is that why you’ve stopped talking to me? Is that why you started such a bullshit argument with me today? You want me to get pissed and go so you can start fresh with -"
"What I came in here to say to you is that I’m sorry. You’re right. I knew all about your past and I still wanted to be with you. I still *want* to be with you, but I’m scared. You made me feel things last night that I’ve never felt before and I’m terrified. It’s not your past that upsets me ... it’s your future." She shrugged and the tears that had burned her eyes fell down her cheeks. "Because I *know* that I don’t want to spend one night sleeping without you and here you are ... completely fine without me."
"I’m not fine," Mark replied, pushing the cover back and getting to his feet. "I’m as far from fine as a person can be. The only reason I am in this room instead of yours -"
"Ours."
"Instead of ours," he amended, "is because I’m scared, too. I’m new at this. And ... having you kick me out of *our* bedroom was not something else I could hear today."
"Something else?"
"You basically told me that you don’t believe anything I’ve been saying to you all these months."
"No, I didn’t."
"Yes, you did." Mark crossed the room and stood before her. "You did. You let two bitchy nurses get under your skin and you’re stronger than that. *We* are stronger than that and-"
"What did you just do when I mentioned George!? You automatically assumed that I was trying to kick you out for him! You saw the mess he made of me and as bad as that was ... living it was worse! I don’t want him! I want you!"
"I’m not remotely concerned about your ex-husband. I think you know the difference between a man and a child and you know what you need." He smiled his cocky, come hither smile. "What I need is for you to trust me more than you fear me."
"I do trust you. I do."
"Then let’s go to bed, baby. We’ll call this one a draw."
"You have to still sleep with me after a fight ... even if you're pissed. You have to still talk to me ... even if you don't want to because anything less than that -"
"I get it, Callie. I will."
The phone rang suddenly and shrilly, causing Callie to jump and look at her watch. She raced into the kitchen and lifted the cordless. "Hello?"
"Callie?"
"‘Stina?"
"I just beat Izzie Stevens within an inch of her life and, well, that’s an exaggeration, but she looks way worse than me and now I’m in jail. Come get me," Cristina replied.
"WHAT!?!?"
"Big Mama Morton is looking at me funny. Can you hurry your ass up before someone makes me her bitch?"
"I’m on my way."
"Thanks."
Callie hung up and buried her face in her hands. A second later, Mark hugged her and she took a deep breath. "Can you keep an eye on Jack?"
"What happened?"
She told him.
Mark swore and followed her upstairs, watching her dig a pair of sneakers from her closet. When she reached for her purse, he caught her arm and pulled her against him. "I’m sorry, too."
"You shouldn’t have yelled ‘fuck you’ at me."
"Hence the apology." He leaned down and kissed her. "Our first day back at work officially *sucked*."
"Maybe I’ll be back home before midnight and we can salvage it."
"I’ll be here." He kissed her again. "For good."
*~*~*~*~*~
Sex didn’t happen. Callie wound up wriggling through red tape at the police department until five in the morning. By the time she dropped Cristina off and drove home during rush hour, there was barely time to shower and dress for work. Mark took care of Jack’s breakfast and his snacks while she rushed around the house in a sleep deprived daze. After leaving him at school with strict orders to stay there and to stay out of trouble, they headed to work.
Callie spotted Izzie right off the bat. Cristina was right ... she looked much worse and considering the reason behind the fight, Callie was overjoyed. Apparently Yang had asked Izzie point blank about the phone message telling George that Callie was losing their baby and the blond had not denied it. Izzie had *laughed* and said she doubted Callie’s pregnancy at all. So, Cristina had given her an old school beat down in the parking lot at Joe’s.
Cristina joined Callie in the hallway, shocking everyone who saw her by looping an arm through her friend’s. Izzie cleared her throat and said, "I wonder who the man is in their relationship. Callie’s taller, but Cristina has the emotional handicaps."
Dr. Hahn appeared, flipping through a chart and ignoring the laughter around her. She was oblivious to the fact that Callie was physically holding Cristina back or that Izzie looked like she had gone two rounds with a mack truck. Hahn cleared her throat and said, "I have open heart surgery in thirty minutes. Who wants in?"
There was a chorus of ‘me’ from all directions and then Izzie stepped forward and said, "I did really well on the last one, Dr. Hahn. You said you’d request me again and I’ve been reading up on everything. I think I’ll go into cardio."
"You’re in," Hahn replied, still not looking up.
Callie cleared her throat, stepped forward, and tapped Hahn on the shoulder. "You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."
Hahn slammed the chart and glared at the black haired woman. "Excuse me? What did you just say to me?"
"You’re taking Izzie Stevens ... willingly taking Izzie Stevens ... into a surgery that deals with a heart?" Callie raised a brow. "I realize that you haven’t been here very long, but surely you realize that your star pupil here is the one who stole the heart for Denny Duquette."
"I’m sorry? Stole?" Dr. Hahn studied Callie’s face. "You can’t steal a -"
"You can falsify medical records, though." Callie glanced at Izzie, who was frozen in one spot. "She cut his LVAD wire to make him *appear* sicker than your patient, the rightful recipient, by the way. She was in love, though, so that excuses it ... in her head at least. Your patient died, right? Left behind a family?"
"WHAT!?" Hahn screamed, turning to glare at Izzie.
"It’s true," Cristina blurted. "I was there. She wanted Duquette at the top of the list and your patient was technically sicker so she took matters into her own hands."
Izzie took a step back, staring into the faces of all her peers. She saw nothing but disdain reflected back at her, even from the crowd she had entertained with stories of how she had gotten bruised. Dr. Hahn stalked across the room toward her, chart dangling at her side. "Stevens, I refuse to call you a doctor from this point on. I don’t know how or why you have a job here, but as far as I’m concerned you’re a janitor! Don’t approach me for surgery and don’t speak to me at all."
"But, I -"
Hahn held up a hand, right in her face, and looked at Cristina. "Yang, you’re in."
"Thank you," Cristina replied, her tone calm and gracious. She watched Hahn stalk down the corridor and smiled up at Callie. "You really do kick ass."
"You don’t do so bad yourself," Callie said, nudging her.
"What the hell?" Meredith asked, nostrils flaring as she glared first at Callie, then at Cristina. "You were supposed to keep your mouth shut! You were supposed to not talk about it! Ever!"
Cristina got toe to toe with Meredith and Callie put an arm between them. "Stop," Callie said.
Cristina shoved her arm down and sneered, "You know how we all kept saying that George was a bastard for not coming to see Callie while she miscarried? Well, that *thing* that you seem happy to defend," Cristina pointed an accusing finger at Izzie, "That *thing* who almost got us all fired ... she deleted the message after she listened to it and went about her vacation like she didn’t have a clue! She kept it from George, Meredith! She purposely kept him in the dark so her perfect little fairy tale would not be cut short. He had a right to know! He had a right to say goodbye to his baby and -"
Meredith spun and looked at Izzie. "Is that true?"
Izzie looked left and right. All around her, people were whispering and looking at her the same way the rich girls had looked at her on the school bus when they saw where she lived for the first time. Saying nothing, she turned on her heel and walked through the crowd.
As soon as she was clear ... she ran.
*~*~*~*~*~
Mark glanced at the clock. It was twelve thirty and Callie wasn’t in the cafeteria. She was also not in surgery. He paged her again and frowned. Surely she wasn’t still angry at him. Having already finished his lunch, he got to his feet and walked to the table where Cristina and Meredith were in deep discussion. "Hey, jail bird, where’s Callie?"
Cristina smiled up at him. "Aww, did she stand you up?"
"No, inmate six six six. Have you seen her?"
"She was sleeping in the second floor on call room earlier," Meredith supplied. "She’s exhausted."
Mark poked Cristina in the arm. "She needs better friends. Ones that don't keep her out all night."
Yang shrugged. "I did it all for her."
"I’m sure she’s grateful."
He headed to the second floor on call room, stopping to buy a rose from one of the candy stripers in the front lobby. Whistling, he made small talk in the elevator and grinned when he pushed the door open. That smile faded fast, however and he squeezed the rose so hard that the thorns broke the skin of his palm.
George, who had been kneeling beside the bunk watching Callie sleep, shot to his feet. "I - I was just -"
Mark saw the way that Callie’s scrub shirt was up, revealing several inches of her stomach and his mind went wild. Surely the other man had not been *groping* her in her slumber. He tossed the rose in the corner and stalked forward, grabbing George by the labels of his hideous corduroy jacket. "Stay the hell away from her!" he barked, slamming him back against the wall.
Callie gasped and sat up, disoriented. She blinked when she saw George’s dangling feet and shot out of the bed, hurrying forward. "Mark! Mark, put him down!"
Mark dropped him. George stumbled and almost fell, but caught himself against the bunks at the last minute, then he darted out of the room without a word. Taking a deep breath, Mark turned to face her and was shocked to see her smiling. He was braced for her wraith. "I think he was taking advantage of the fact that you weren’t awake to feel you up."
Callie looked down and gasped, pulling her shirt the right way. "Go after him and kill him."
Mark started toward the door, but she caught his hand. She was about to say something funny when she felt how sticky it was. Turning it over, she gasped when she saw the blood. "Oh my god. Maybe you already did."
He shook his head and retrieved the rose, handing it to her. "It’s not the most suave flower delivery, but there you go."
She brought it to her nose and breathed deep, smiling at him. "Nothing says I’m sorry I was an ass quite like a red-"
Reaching out, he caught her behind the neck and pulled her forward, planting a kiss on her that left them both breathless. It was her turn to throw the flower and she did just that when he picked her up and urged her legs around his waist. Gripping his broad shoulders, she held him close. She grunted when her back roughly hit the wall, but he didn’t break the kiss, didn’t ask if she was okay. And it drove her wild.
He slipped his hand under her shirt and shoved her bra upward, angrily tweaking her nipple. She tightened her legs around him as her head fell back and he latched onto her neck, nipping and biting. Her hands moved to his head, but only for a moment. He pushed her legs from his waist and turned her, forcing her face first against the door. Callie’s breath caught when he reached around her waist and untied her scrub pants. "Mark-"
"Shhh." He shoved them and her panties down her legs, stopping at mid thigh. Kneading the flesh of her ass, he pulled her hips back slightly and bent her forward just a little. Her palms were flat against the wall when he lowered his own pants and slammed into her. This time his name was a harsh cry and he put a hand over her mouth as he drove against her.
Callie scratched at the door, looking for purchase as he fucked her harder than she had ever been fucked in her life. One of his hands stayed on her mouth as her cries intensified and the other moved around her, fondling her swollen clit until she came so hard that all she could do was bite down on his hand. She was momentarily grateful that it wasn’t the bloody one and then he was doing something inside her that caused her to come again, faster than the first time and it took all of her control to keep standing at all.
Mark came with a growl and tugged her hair, urging her head around so he could kiss her over her shoulder. It was wet, as sloppy as their joining had been. They both moaned their displeasure when he slipped from her wet center and grabbed a box of tissue. He cleaned her up himself, kneeling down in front of her to kiss her stomach and her hips as he did so. When he stood again, she was smiling at him.
"What?" he asked.
"You’re completely forgiven."
"You are, too."
She retied her pants and said, "That was really, really good, Mark."
"You like it rough. I haven’t forgotten." He pinned her back against the wall again and devoured her lips in a kiss that held the promise of things yet to come. "If you don’t kick your ex-husband’s ass ... I will."
"I’ll handle it," she promised, pulling him back down.
Both their pagers went off a moment later and Sloan made a face. "God help the patient if we both have to scrub in on this. My mind will not allow me to do my job if you’re in the vicinity."
Callie stood on her tiptoes and whispered, "Having you in the vicinity doesn’t mess with my mind so much as my body. Think about that."
"You are nothing but trouble."
"You can handle it," she replied as she opened the door.
"You’re damn right I can. And I will just as soon as we both catch a break again."
*~*~*~*~*
Callie didn’t get the chance to "handle" George for the next three weeks. Cristina wasn’t sure where he had gotten off to, but he was definitely not working and Izzie was not saying a word to anyone. By the time O’Malley reappeared, the incident in the on call room was the furthest thing from Callie’s mind. Between shopping for Mark’s new car (an SUV, thank you very much) and dealing with Jack’s utter hatred of all things academic, she was having trouble concentrating on how to spell her own name and had no time for drama. So, when George approached her looking like a kicked puppy, her first instinct was to ask him what was wrong instead of punching him for possibly groping her.
"I broke up with Izzie," he told her, looking like he had just informed her that her lottery ticket was worth twenty million bucks. "That’s what I wanted to tell you the other day when Mark tried to choke me."
Callie simply glared at him.
"So, I’m not with her," George continued. "I just wanted to let you know. You were right ... about the nightmare."
"And I care because?"
"Maybe we could talk?"
"What do we have to talk about?"
"I could use a friend right now and we -"
"Were never friends." Callie shook her head. "I’m sorry that Snow White turned out to be Snow Wart, but I don’t care."
"All I’m asking is for you to-"
"No." Callie gathered up her chart. "I’m with Mark. With him, George."
"Are you in love with him?"
"Yes," she replied instantly. "I’m in love with him. My son is in love with him. We’re a family and we’re happy. So ... I don’t care."
"No one talks to me anymore, Callie! No one! I don’t have anyone else."
Callie took a deep breath and looked at him. He seemed so much smaller, greasier, and spineless than she remembered. "No one talks to you because the *you* that left me for her isn’t George O’Malley. You’re not the heart in the elevator guy or the family guy or the lovable sidekick anymore. You’re a man who cheated, a man who said nothing to his then wife when he came back and found out that she had lost his baby, and you’re a man who - no, you know exactly what you’ve become. And I don’t want to know you."
She turned on her heel and started to walk away, but she turned back toward him. He looked hopeful and she almost laughed in his face. "By the way, it’s creepy as hell for someone to watch you while you’re asleep so don’t come near me when I’m napping in the on call room again."
"Callie-"
"And if you had *anything* to do with my shirt being up ... bend over and kiss your ass goodbye."
"I didn’t pull your -"
"Oh, Gimpy Smurf is back in our midst," Mark said, sliding his chart across the station to the nurse on duty. He put his arms around Callie’s waist and kissed her neck. "I guess it was too much to hope that Gargamel had finally caught one, huh?"
"No more television for you, Sloan," Callie told him. "You’re worse than Jack with the cartoon references. My brain needs adult conversation."
"Okay, I can do adult," Mark replied. "It looks like the suicidal mother fucker is back in our midst. I guess it was too much to hope that he had taken care of it himself so ... here’s my warning, dumbass, you talking to her? Death wish. Keep walking."
"That was harsh," Callie said, watching George slump down the hallway. "And nicely done, babe."
"Thanks, gorgeous." He put his mouth against her ear so that only she could hear him. "My body needs adult stimulation so how about you duck into the closet with me and -"
"Dr. Sloan," Chief Webber called, stepping out of the elevator. He glanced down at Sloan’s hands, which were dangerously low on Callie’s belly and cleared his throat. "I could write you both up for inappropriate touching."
"This would be inappropriate." Mark moved his hand and groped her breast, causing her to smack his hand and Webber to look at the ceiling. "Aww, Chief, are you blushing?"
"I need to hire an uglier staff." Webber glanced back down at them and relaxed when he saw that they were merely holding hands. "Sloan, I need you to do a consult for me."
"Who’s the patient?"
"Me," Richard replied. "It’s - er - private."
"Going." Callie turned and gave Mark a quick kiss. "Our plane leaves at seven so if you can’t make it to the airport, I’ll smooth it over with Jack."
"I still don’t understand why you have to go see Addison for *three* days."
"Because Jack only has three day weekends few and far between."
"Fine, fine," Mark replied, giving her another kiss. "I’ll be there, by the way. To see you off."
"Okay."
Webber tilted his head to the side, watching Callie walk away. Sloan was doing the same thing and when her laughter carried back to them as she stopped to talk to Dr. Yang, Chief Webber grinned. "She's happy."
"She is," Mark replied, his gaze still pinned to her. "So am I."
"Her son is calling you 'dad'."
With a grin, Sloan nodded. "Yep. He is calling me dad."
"You have to be extremely careful when there are children involved, Mark. Because if you hurt her then you hurt him by default."
"Not happening." Mark shook his head. "I'd die first."
"Well, don't die before you remove this damn triple nipple. I'm getting divorced so if I plan on dating the ladies ... I need two nipples and not three. And I don't want scarring, either."
"Great. Triple nipples and no scarring. Just what I wanted to do with my life."
*~*~*~*~*~
"You're wearing the shirt I bought you, Dad!" Jack cried, jumping to his feet in the chair and holding out his arms.
"I sure am," Mark replied, hugging him. The shirt in question was hideous, covered in train engines and colorful enough to be Hawaiian, but not quite making it. He wore it all the time because Jack always noticed and always had the same proud grin on his face when he saw it. Callie had offered to 'accidentally' bleach it, but he had staunchly refused. Jack had spent *his* allowance on something for Mark instead of himself and that was priceless. "Will you please be good on the plane?"
"Yep. Look, Mom bought me a book that she's going to read to me!"
Mark accepted the copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. He raised a brow at Callie. "Isn't he kinda young to be as weird as you?"
Callie smiled at him. "Just because I made you wait in line with me at the Sci-Fi convention to get a Weasley's autograph ... doesn't make me weird."
"No, the fact that you dressed like a witch made you weird. Actually, I guess not because everyone was dressed like that. Freaks." He leaned forward and kissed her. "You were the hottest witch, though."
"You were a hot muggle." She winked at him. "Are you going to miss us?"
"I already do. You sure I can't change your mind?"
"I'm sure." Callie got to her feet when their flight was called. "Mark?"
"What, baby."
"Be good."
"You know I will." He caught her around the waist. "I love you."
It was the first time he had said it outright. He had said 'I'm in love with you' and 'I love being with you', but never simply stated it as fact. She took a deep breath, enjoying the effect it had on her. "I love you, too."
"I love us all!" Jack said, hugging both of their legs. "Family!"
"Family!" Mark agreed, lifting him up and tossing him into the air. "You mind your mother and remind her to call me when you land, okay?"
"'Kay!"
Setting the child back on his feet, Mark hugged Callie one last time. "*You* be good."
"If I can't .. I'll name it after you," she replied innocently.
"Watch me not laugh."
He stood at the window long after their plane had disappeared into the darkness.
*~*~*~*~*~
Chief Webber sat beside Derek at the Emerald City Bar. Richard peeled the label on his bottle of water as he watched the door. Sloan had agreed to meet him at eight thirty, but it was rapidly approaching nine fifteen and he was getting antsy. "I don't know how to do this whole dating thing," he said.
Derek asked for another beer and turned, gazing out at the female patrons of the bar. "Do you want to have sex or a meaningful relationship?"
Richard choked on his water and grabbed a napkin, blotting his mouth. "I just want to buy someone a drink. And talk."
"You're a dying breed."
Mark joined them at the bar a moment later, ordering a double shot of tequila. Derek leaned forward, gazing at him in shock. "Hard liquor? Callie loosened the ball and chain tonight?"
"She's flying to Los Angeles to see Addison. For three days."
"Ooooh. The current and the ex." Derek held up his beer bottle. "Once they compare notes you're a dead man."
"Shut up," Mark snapped, draining his shot and asking for another double.
Richard raised his eyebrows, glaring at Sloan. "You're off tomorrow, right?"
"Yep."
"Do you have a designated driver?"
"You," Mark told him, motioning for another refill. "I'll help you score a date and you help me get home safe."
"How are you going to help me score a date if you're drunk?"
"Oh, right." Mark turned on the stool and gazed out at the crowd of women. "Slim pickings."
Erica Hahn made the mistake of meeting his eye and he beckoned her to the bar. She glared at him the entire time she approached. "What?" she snapped.
"Chief Webber wants to show you how to dance."
Erica looked at Richard, who was staring at the liquor bottles behind the bar. "Is Chief Webber suddenly mute?"
Mark nudged his boss so roughly that he almost crashed into Derek. Webber choked again and turned, smiling at the blond. "Good evening, Dr. Hahn."
"If you want to dance with me you have to call me Erica." She held out her hand and waited for the other man to take it. "Don't grope my ass, don't grind any part of your body against mine and try to keep up."
"Damn," Derek and Mark said together as Webber followed Hahn onto the dance floor and put everyone around him to shame.
An hour later, Webber and Hahn were slow dancing and Mark was tipsy as hell. For the fifth time, he checked his cell phone and realized that it only felt like time was moving at warp speed. "I'm sure they've landed and are on their way to Addison's," he assured Derek for lack of anything better to do.
Derek clapped him on the shoulder. "If you start crying, you're on your own."
"It's just three days. Two nights alone." Mark grimaced suddenly. "Two nights alone. In our bed. With her smell and --- I'm sleeping on the couch."
"She really is the one, huh?"
"She really is the one." Mark grinned.
"Because I can't imagine you'd wear that shiteous shirt for just anyone."
Smoothing his hand over his chest, Mark shook his head. "This is for Jack. And I make it look good."
"Dr. Sloan?"
Mark turned and stared blearily into the face of someone he vaguely recognized. "Elise, right?"
The woman didn't reply. Instead she stepped between his legs and planted the biggest, wettest kiss on him he'd ever received. It was disgusting and whatever fruity alcoholic beverage she was drinking gagged him when her tongue met his. He pushed her back, rougher than he should have, and Webber caught the woman before she could bust her ass. She giggled maniacally and took off back to the table of nurses in the corner. Derek narrowed his eyes when they all put their heads together.
Mark was too drunk to realize it right now ... but Derek had no doubt that his previous conquests were up to something.
Big.
*~*~*~*~*~