pop culture clichés catch up with you sooner or later
Title: pop culture clichés catch up with you sooner or later: side b: track three: all the things that go to make heaven and earth
Rating: PG-13.
Character: Mark. Mark/Callie.
Summary: Thunderstorms continued, sulky three year-olds, girl bonding, Risk, decisions for improvement, development of something real.
PS: You guys totally rock for your comments on the last chapter. Thank you! Keeps my inspiration moving and the writer’s block at bay.
side a: side b:
track one: teardrop
track two: once upon a time
track three: 99% of us is failure
track four: there is a number of small things
track five: misery is a butterfly
track six: rescued
track seven: punk rock princess (acoustic)
track one: well thought out twinkles
track two: i hope for tumbleweeds
He’s unsettled to open the door to his apartment and find it totally encased in darkness. A million scenarios, not one of them good, shoot through his head until his eyes focus on the bright green clock of the microwave telling him that it’s far past anyone’s bedtime. He relaxes a little and shakes his head at himself for being so paranoid and takes a few breaths to calm the adrenaline released by the hectic five hours spent at the hospital that should have been spent at home and still the anxiety produced by driving home in what looked to be a promising calm in the raging storm that turned out to be anything but.
Though he did manage to find a break in the madness of running between the OR, the pit and various trauma rooms as his presence was demanded to call home and say goodnight, sweet dreams, I love you, he quietly tiptoes down the hallway and pokes his head into Caroline’s room, intending to give her a goodnight kiss before falling into his own bed and sleeping until his body tells him that it’s time to wake up. Blinking in the darkness, he tries to focus on the smushed pillows and crumpled blankets and form them into his daughter but as the storm starts up again with just as much fury and a flash of lightning shows no hint of blonde hair, he begins to realize that it makes perfect sense for the bed to be empty.
A pang of jealousy and sadness runs through him as he toes open the door to his bedroom and sees Caroline and Callie cuddled together in the middle of the bed with Dolphin curled up tightly near Callie’s feet. He tells himself that, just as it made sense for Caroline’s bed to be empty, it makes just as much sense for Caroline to run to Callie for protection and comfort in his absence. Mark shakes his head at himself, having silently sworn to always put his daughter first and having broken that promise to himself by not being home to hold her during a loud thunderstorm. By the time his teeth are brushed and he’s changed into pajamas, he’s settled down into simply being exhausted and thankful that Callie was there and happy that Caroline trusts her enough to ask for an extended hug.
Caroline’s eyes flutter open as she feels the bed shift and the covers lift up as another body slides in with them. “Daddy!” She exclaims in a whisper and twists out of Callie’s arms, not seeming to mind that she wakes her up in the process, and wriggles as close as she can to him until he lifts up an arm and tucks it tightly around her waist. She smiles as he drops a kiss on her forehead and she squirms around until she’s comfy, her head tucked safely under his chin.
Suddenly feeling very awkward, Callie offers Mark a smile in response to his whispered thank you and moves to slide out of bed to allow father and daughter to sleep comfortably without a third person there though the bed is certainly big enough. She knows where she stands when she’s with one or the other but she’s never certain how to act when she’s with both of them and hopes that she’s doing a decent job of concealing it. Mark’s strong hand on her shoulder stops her and she raises her eyes from her feet, trying not to disturb the happily-sleeping cat in the process, to look at him with a curious eyebrow.
“Stay.”
--
“Bad day?” Derek walks up behind Callie trying to stealthily watch Caroline through the daycare window. He used to stop by the nursery after rough days in the OR, the wriggling newborns always put a smile on the face, but ever since he became “Uncle Derek” he finds himself watching Caroline giggle and finger-paint when he needs an extra lift that the babies - or on-call room sex with Meredith - can’t provide.
Callie sighs heavily and crosses her arms. Turning away from the window, she stares at the floor and crosses her ankles and leans against the wall. “I think she’s mad at me.”
He blinks, unaware that the bubbly blond girl was capable of being mad at anyone unless they wouldn’t play with her and he knows that Callie has always been willing. “She loves you.”
“Not lately,” she grumbles. Used to being tackled when Mark needed her to pick his daughter up from daycare, Callie was shocked to suddenly be greeted by a sullen look and pout. She mentioned it to Mark two weeks after the gloominess started and confusion set in over both adults when Mark reported that she was her normal giggly self when he picked her up.
Almost positive what it is but unsure whether he and Callie are that kind of friends and he’s within his right to mention it, Derek stays silent and pats her comfortingly on the arm before waving at Caroline through the window and walking away.
--
Cristina yawns and lies on the floor of their apartment, her back cracking successfully as she stretches her body out as far as it can go. “You’re sleeping with her dad.”
“Yeah, and? I’ve been sleeping with him for five months.” Callie walks back into the living room with a bottle of wine and no glass.
After slamming a shot glass on the floor and sucking the juice out of a lime, Meredith wipes her mouth of any extra tequila with the back of her hand. “Are you two still a Thing or do you have a definition?”
Amazed at how good of an indicator of the success of Meredith’s relationship with Derek her method of shooting tequila is - straight-up meant bad, using the salt and the lime meant excellent - Callie shrugs. “I call him my boyfriend because That Guy I’m Sleeping With And Am Very Attracted To is a bit of a mouthful. We’d be dating if any of you losers would baby-sit with any frequency.”
“Cristina would teach her indiscrete math and small children scare me.”
“You helped the earless kid just fine.” Callie sighs and takes a swig of red wine from the bottle, the kind that’s so bad you drink it only when you’re feeling incredibly crappy or have no money.
“Okay, so, they scare me when I have to take care of them.”
“I never took indiscrete math.” Sitting up, Cristina steals the bottle from Callie and pours some into a big plastic cup taken from the movie theater, unable to refuse the make-it-an-extra-large-for-a-quarter-more offer.
“You didn’t?”
“Focus!”
Cringing as the wine hits the back of her throat, Cristina stands up and comes back from the kitchen with a bottle of Sprite. Though usually hardcore with alcohol and refusing to drink mixed drinks, she had a bad tequila night a few weeks ago and the only other alcohol is Callie’s bad wine which is desperately in need of some doctoring. “You sleeping with Sloan means that she doesn’t get to. Can we focus on the fact that I’m the only one of us not sleeping with anyone right now?”
--
Knowing that he’s that kind of friends with Mark, Derek patiently waits Mark to finish his rambling monologue about his daughter being less than thrilled with his girlfriend and then gives him a pointed stare. “Callie’s taking away Daddy Time,” he says without being prompted for an explanation. He’d prefer to put things into grown-up terms but he’s watched his friend turn from a man who uses big words to explain little concepts to his daughter into a man who uses little words to explain big concepts and often needs to make references to Disney movies or Candyland.
“I tried to avoid this.”
“No you didn’t,” Erica yawns, bored at Mark’s inability to see the obvious. “You hopped into bed with Torres…”
“Technically,” Mark raises his hand, intending to defend his character a little bit by mentioning that it’s his bed they’ve been sleeping in.
“Whatever. You hopped into bed with Torres, acted like it was perfectly normal to have her over for breakfast, explained sex in terms of Candyland and assumed that because Caroline never threw a fit that you were pulling it off.” She’d achieved a reputation based on her bluntness over almost two years at Seattle Grace and, thankful that - in a hospital filled with inappropriate sex and killing patients - she had a reputation at all, she’d made conscious effort to be blunter than ever. “Afghanistan attacking Ukraine.”
“You’re honestly going to try to hold Asia?” Derek rolls the dice and grins smugly when she loses six men.
“No. I’m honestly holding Asia.”
“So, what do I do about it?”
Erica easily takes Ukraine to the sound of Derek’s protests of weighted dice. “Talk to her.”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
--
“I love you,” Mark mentions over an otherwise-silent dinner.
Caroline kicks her feet in the air and pouts. “Then why do you sleep with Callie always?”
Reminding himself that now is not the time for a lesson on sentence construction, Mark smiles softly at her. “Do you want me to change that?” He thought for a while that the quiet creaking of his bedroom door was the result of wind from an unlocatable draft or Dolphin wandering in and out, but last night’s mysterious sniffle and soft footsteps back down the hallway jolted him out of pretending that Caroline was just huffy lately and into realizing that there really is a problem. His heart ached as he slipped out of bed to follow her and found her in her bed snuggled up tightly in her blankets and pillows with a distinct look on her face that told him that nothing was wrong, she just wanted to cuddle.
She nods energetically, missing her dad’s extra hugs at bedtime and father-daughter-only dinners and too young to understand that it might not be fair to either Callie or Mark. “Please,” she adds politely as an afterthought.
Mark reaches across the table and taps her nose, grinning when she giggles. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.” With no idea how to approach the topic or how to put his promise into action, he takes a bite of his spaghetti, expertly twirling it onto his fork and showing Caroline how to do it properly when hers falls back off onto the plate.
--
Their initial apprehension about sex in on-call rooms rapidly disappeared after several weeks of being a couple and needing a bed in a location that didn’t require the immediate replacement of clothing and that had a lock on the door and allowed a little bit more noise and foreplay. Breathing heavily, Callie collapses on top of Mark for a few seconds, regaining just enough strength to roll over onto her side. She smiles quietly and shakes her head as his fingers trail patterns low on her stomach and he tugs lightly on her earlobe with his teeth.
“I have surgery in half an hour.”
“That’s enough time for another round,” he whispers huskily and slips his hand between her legs.
She squirms away and turns over so she’s facing him. “Yes, but I think Karl Sampson might prefer it if I were able to stand.”
“You were sexier when you weren’t talking about other men.” He pouts and withdraws his hand, placing it on her back instead.
Callie laughs and kisses him softly. Deeming that enough time has passed since their orgasms and it’s now okay to bring up the subject they’ve been avoiding since they discussed it that morning, she takes a deep breath. “So. How do we do this? Without making it seem like a schedule.” She mentally rolls her eyes, remembering Cristina’s drunken suggestion of Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and alternate Saturdays.
“I don’t know,” he admits with a shrug and gently rubs her back in silence.
Though perfectly happy with the sex and the time she does get to spend with him, Callie decides to take the plunge she’s been thinking about taking for a while. “This is great but, uhm,” she smiles and hugs him a little tighter as she feels him stiffen, anticipating the totally wrong continuation to her thought, “I kinda like you in a more than sex and cuddling way.”
“What do you mean?” He scoots back, keeping his arms around her but far enough so he can look at her face.
“Take me out to dinner, Mark. Just us.” At his half-confused, half-understanding expression, she stifles a frustrated laugh: for all his growth over the last year in being able to show that he cares about people, he’s still a teenage boy when it comes to speaking in terms that are between two concrete ideas. “You like me more than just this,” she looks around at the on-call room, “too. Let’s make it a real thing.”
While they had decided that they were a “real thing,” not a “benefit thing,” it hadn’t gone unnoticed by either of them that they had fallen into a “benefit thing” with emotional attachments. Uncertain where the other stood on the issue, it had been left silent and questions by their friends about why they hadn’t gone on dates were always answered by disparaging those same friends and reluctances to baby-sit.
“Alright,” Mark nods and kisses her forehead as he gently tugs her back to him. He knows better than to immediately ask when and where: even though Callie’s right in her interpretation of his feelings and they know where they stand with each other, it isn’t the right time or the right discussion. After several minutes of content silence, he asks “How does this…?” He cringes at the bluntness of his voice and the question, knowing that there were multitudes of better ways to phrase that question. He lifts his chin from her head, intending to apologize for being an insensitive moron, but finds her laughing quietly instead.
“Sorry,” she apologizes, always finding him funny when he’s unintentionally a jerk. “It makes everyone happy. Caroline gets to cuddle with you at night if she wants, though I still fully expect to sleep over some times because these beds really suck, and we get to be adults when we’re alone. I fucking hate Candyland.”
“Eventually, she’ll figure out that there’s no skill involved.”
She pokes him lightly. “You’re just pissed because the Mr. Mint piece went missing a month ago and you have to be King Kandy instead.”
Mark looks at her askance with an eyebrow raised. “That is not why I hate that game.”
Callie rolls her eyes and sits up and runs her fingers through her hair. “Whatever,” she teases. “I need clothes.”
“No, you don’t.” When his tug on her arm doesn’t bring her back down to his level, Mark sits up with her and wraps his arms around her waist and nuzzles her neck.
She laughs a throaty laugh and turns her head around to kiss him. “Along with being able to stand up, I think Karl Sampson might appreciate his surgeon being clothed.”
“He’s not awake,” Mark points out and presses a kiss to her shoulder.
“Many other men in the room and the gallery will be.”
He pulls away and puts on a mockingly terrified face. “Clothes on. Now.”
side b: track four: wraith pinned to the mist (and other games)
Rating: PG-13.
Character: Mark. Mark/Callie.
Summary: Thunderstorms continued, sulky three year-olds, girl bonding, Risk, decisions for improvement, development of something real.
PS: You guys totally rock for your comments on the last chapter. Thank you! Keeps my inspiration moving and the writer’s block at bay.
side a: side b:
track one: teardrop
track two: once upon a time
track three: 99% of us is failure
track four: there is a number of small things
track five: misery is a butterfly
track six: rescued
track seven: punk rock princess (acoustic)
track one: well thought out twinkles
track two: i hope for tumbleweeds
He’s unsettled to open the door to his apartment and find it totally encased in darkness. A million scenarios, not one of them good, shoot through his head until his eyes focus on the bright green clock of the microwave telling him that it’s far past anyone’s bedtime. He relaxes a little and shakes his head at himself for being so paranoid and takes a few breaths to calm the adrenaline released by the hectic five hours spent at the hospital that should have been spent at home and still the anxiety produced by driving home in what looked to be a promising calm in the raging storm that turned out to be anything but.
Though he did manage to find a break in the madness of running between the OR, the pit and various trauma rooms as his presence was demanded to call home and say goodnight, sweet dreams, I love you, he quietly tiptoes down the hallway and pokes his head into Caroline’s room, intending to give her a goodnight kiss before falling into his own bed and sleeping until his body tells him that it’s time to wake up. Blinking in the darkness, he tries to focus on the smushed pillows and crumpled blankets and form them into his daughter but as the storm starts up again with just as much fury and a flash of lightning shows no hint of blonde hair, he begins to realize that it makes perfect sense for the bed to be empty.
A pang of jealousy and sadness runs through him as he toes open the door to his bedroom and sees Caroline and Callie cuddled together in the middle of the bed with Dolphin curled up tightly near Callie’s feet. He tells himself that, just as it made sense for Caroline’s bed to be empty, it makes just as much sense for Caroline to run to Callie for protection and comfort in his absence. Mark shakes his head at himself, having silently sworn to always put his daughter first and having broken that promise to himself by not being home to hold her during a loud thunderstorm. By the time his teeth are brushed and he’s changed into pajamas, he’s settled down into simply being exhausted and thankful that Callie was there and happy that Caroline trusts her enough to ask for an extended hug.
Caroline’s eyes flutter open as she feels the bed shift and the covers lift up as another body slides in with them. “Daddy!” She exclaims in a whisper and twists out of Callie’s arms, not seeming to mind that she wakes her up in the process, and wriggles as close as she can to him until he lifts up an arm and tucks it tightly around her waist. She smiles as he drops a kiss on her forehead and she squirms around until she’s comfy, her head tucked safely under his chin.
Suddenly feeling very awkward, Callie offers Mark a smile in response to his whispered thank you and moves to slide out of bed to allow father and daughter to sleep comfortably without a third person there though the bed is certainly big enough. She knows where she stands when she’s with one or the other but she’s never certain how to act when she’s with both of them and hopes that she’s doing a decent job of concealing it. Mark’s strong hand on her shoulder stops her and she raises her eyes from her feet, trying not to disturb the happily-sleeping cat in the process, to look at him with a curious eyebrow.
“Stay.”
--
“Bad day?” Derek walks up behind Callie trying to stealthily watch Caroline through the daycare window. He used to stop by the nursery after rough days in the OR, the wriggling newborns always put a smile on the face, but ever since he became “Uncle Derek” he finds himself watching Caroline giggle and finger-paint when he needs an extra lift that the babies - or on-call room sex with Meredith - can’t provide.
Callie sighs heavily and crosses her arms. Turning away from the window, she stares at the floor and crosses her ankles and leans against the wall. “I think she’s mad at me.”
He blinks, unaware that the bubbly blond girl was capable of being mad at anyone unless they wouldn’t play with her and he knows that Callie has always been willing. “She loves you.”
“Not lately,” she grumbles. Used to being tackled when Mark needed her to pick his daughter up from daycare, Callie was shocked to suddenly be greeted by a sullen look and pout. She mentioned it to Mark two weeks after the gloominess started and confusion set in over both adults when Mark reported that she was her normal giggly self when he picked her up.
Almost positive what it is but unsure whether he and Callie are that kind of friends and he’s within his right to mention it, Derek stays silent and pats her comfortingly on the arm before waving at Caroline through the window and walking away.
--
Cristina yawns and lies on the floor of their apartment, her back cracking successfully as she stretches her body out as far as it can go. “You’re sleeping with her dad.”
“Yeah, and? I’ve been sleeping with him for five months.” Callie walks back into the living room with a bottle of wine and no glass.
After slamming a shot glass on the floor and sucking the juice out of a lime, Meredith wipes her mouth of any extra tequila with the back of her hand. “Are you two still a Thing or do you have a definition?”
Amazed at how good of an indicator of the success of Meredith’s relationship with Derek her method of shooting tequila is - straight-up meant bad, using the salt and the lime meant excellent - Callie shrugs. “I call him my boyfriend because That Guy I’m Sleeping With And Am Very Attracted To is a bit of a mouthful. We’d be dating if any of you losers would baby-sit with any frequency.”
“Cristina would teach her indiscrete math and small children scare me.”
“You helped the earless kid just fine.” Callie sighs and takes a swig of red wine from the bottle, the kind that’s so bad you drink it only when you’re feeling incredibly crappy or have no money.
“Okay, so, they scare me when I have to take care of them.”
“I never took indiscrete math.” Sitting up, Cristina steals the bottle from Callie and pours some into a big plastic cup taken from the movie theater, unable to refuse the make-it-an-extra-large-for-a-quarter-more offer.
“You didn’t?”
“Focus!”
Cringing as the wine hits the back of her throat, Cristina stands up and comes back from the kitchen with a bottle of Sprite. Though usually hardcore with alcohol and refusing to drink mixed drinks, she had a bad tequila night a few weeks ago and the only other alcohol is Callie’s bad wine which is desperately in need of some doctoring. “You sleeping with Sloan means that she doesn’t get to. Can we focus on the fact that I’m the only one of us not sleeping with anyone right now?”
--
Knowing that he’s that kind of friends with Mark, Derek patiently waits Mark to finish his rambling monologue about his daughter being less than thrilled with his girlfriend and then gives him a pointed stare. “Callie’s taking away Daddy Time,” he says without being prompted for an explanation. He’d prefer to put things into grown-up terms but he’s watched his friend turn from a man who uses big words to explain little concepts to his daughter into a man who uses little words to explain big concepts and often needs to make references to Disney movies or Candyland.
“I tried to avoid this.”
“No you didn’t,” Erica yawns, bored at Mark’s inability to see the obvious. “You hopped into bed with Torres…”
“Technically,” Mark raises his hand, intending to defend his character a little bit by mentioning that it’s his bed they’ve been sleeping in.
“Whatever. You hopped into bed with Torres, acted like it was perfectly normal to have her over for breakfast, explained sex in terms of Candyland and assumed that because Caroline never threw a fit that you were pulling it off.” She’d achieved a reputation based on her bluntness over almost two years at Seattle Grace and, thankful that - in a hospital filled with inappropriate sex and killing patients - she had a reputation at all, she’d made conscious effort to be blunter than ever. “Afghanistan attacking Ukraine.”
“You’re honestly going to try to hold Asia?” Derek rolls the dice and grins smugly when she loses six men.
“No. I’m honestly holding Asia.”
“So, what do I do about it?”
Erica easily takes Ukraine to the sound of Derek’s protests of weighted dice. “Talk to her.”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
--
“I love you,” Mark mentions over an otherwise-silent dinner.
Caroline kicks her feet in the air and pouts. “Then why do you sleep with Callie always?”
Reminding himself that now is not the time for a lesson on sentence construction, Mark smiles softly at her. “Do you want me to change that?” He thought for a while that the quiet creaking of his bedroom door was the result of wind from an unlocatable draft or Dolphin wandering in and out, but last night’s mysterious sniffle and soft footsteps back down the hallway jolted him out of pretending that Caroline was just huffy lately and into realizing that there really is a problem. His heart ached as he slipped out of bed to follow her and found her in her bed snuggled up tightly in her blankets and pillows with a distinct look on her face that told him that nothing was wrong, she just wanted to cuddle.
She nods energetically, missing her dad’s extra hugs at bedtime and father-daughter-only dinners and too young to understand that it might not be fair to either Callie or Mark. “Please,” she adds politely as an afterthought.
Mark reaches across the table and taps her nose, grinning when she giggles. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.” With no idea how to approach the topic or how to put his promise into action, he takes a bite of his spaghetti, expertly twirling it onto his fork and showing Caroline how to do it properly when hers falls back off onto the plate.
--
Their initial apprehension about sex in on-call rooms rapidly disappeared after several weeks of being a couple and needing a bed in a location that didn’t require the immediate replacement of clothing and that had a lock on the door and allowed a little bit more noise and foreplay. Breathing heavily, Callie collapses on top of Mark for a few seconds, regaining just enough strength to roll over onto her side. She smiles quietly and shakes her head as his fingers trail patterns low on her stomach and he tugs lightly on her earlobe with his teeth.
“I have surgery in half an hour.”
“That’s enough time for another round,” he whispers huskily and slips his hand between her legs.
She squirms away and turns over so she’s facing him. “Yes, but I think Karl Sampson might prefer it if I were able to stand.”
“You were sexier when you weren’t talking about other men.” He pouts and withdraws his hand, placing it on her back instead.
Callie laughs and kisses him softly. Deeming that enough time has passed since their orgasms and it’s now okay to bring up the subject they’ve been avoiding since they discussed it that morning, she takes a deep breath. “So. How do we do this? Without making it seem like a schedule.” She mentally rolls her eyes, remembering Cristina’s drunken suggestion of Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and alternate Saturdays.
“I don’t know,” he admits with a shrug and gently rubs her back in silence.
Though perfectly happy with the sex and the time she does get to spend with him, Callie decides to take the plunge she’s been thinking about taking for a while. “This is great but, uhm,” she smiles and hugs him a little tighter as she feels him stiffen, anticipating the totally wrong continuation to her thought, “I kinda like you in a more than sex and cuddling way.”
“What do you mean?” He scoots back, keeping his arms around her but far enough so he can look at her face.
“Take me out to dinner, Mark. Just us.” At his half-confused, half-understanding expression, she stifles a frustrated laugh: for all his growth over the last year in being able to show that he cares about people, he’s still a teenage boy when it comes to speaking in terms that are between two concrete ideas. “You like me more than just this,” she looks around at the on-call room, “too. Let’s make it a real thing.”
While they had decided that they were a “real thing,” not a “benefit thing,” it hadn’t gone unnoticed by either of them that they had fallen into a “benefit thing” with emotional attachments. Uncertain where the other stood on the issue, it had been left silent and questions by their friends about why they hadn’t gone on dates were always answered by disparaging those same friends and reluctances to baby-sit.
“Alright,” Mark nods and kisses her forehead as he gently tugs her back to him. He knows better than to immediately ask when and where: even though Callie’s right in her interpretation of his feelings and they know where they stand with each other, it isn’t the right time or the right discussion. After several minutes of content silence, he asks “How does this…?” He cringes at the bluntness of his voice and the question, knowing that there were multitudes of better ways to phrase that question. He lifts his chin from her head, intending to apologize for being an insensitive moron, but finds her laughing quietly instead.
“Sorry,” she apologizes, always finding him funny when he’s unintentionally a jerk. “It makes everyone happy. Caroline gets to cuddle with you at night if she wants, though I still fully expect to sleep over some times because these beds really suck, and we get to be adults when we’re alone. I fucking hate Candyland.”
“Eventually, she’ll figure out that there’s no skill involved.”
She pokes him lightly. “You’re just pissed because the Mr. Mint piece went missing a month ago and you have to be King Kandy instead.”
Mark looks at her askance with an eyebrow raised. “That is not why I hate that game.”
Callie rolls her eyes and sits up and runs her fingers through her hair. “Whatever,” she teases. “I need clothes.”
“No, you don’t.” When his tug on her arm doesn’t bring her back down to his level, Mark sits up with her and wraps his arms around her waist and nuzzles her neck.
She laughs a throaty laugh and turns her head around to kiss him. “Along with being able to stand up, I think Karl Sampson might appreciate his surgeon being clothed.”
“He’s not awake,” Mark points out and presses a kiss to her shoulder.
“Many other men in the room and the gallery will be.”
He pulls away and puts on a mockingly terrified face. “Clothes on. Now.”
side b: track four: wraith pinned to the mist (and other games)