Title: That's What I'm Talkin' About
Pairing: Callie/Mark
Rating: M

Summary: Sequel to This Modern Love. Callie finally gets some.

Author's Note: RapidShare is taking to long, so I'll be uploading the songs tomorrow.

Soundtrack:

Esthero – "Thank Heaven 4 You"
Robin Thicke – "Wanna Love U Girl"
Iron & Wine – "Fever Dream"
Fiona Apple – "Slow Like Honey"
Amerie – "Talkin' About"

Callie gasped and bolted upright in bed. She'd just had (what was to her) the most horrible dream. Mark had returned from his medical conference and though they'd given it the old college try, all of their plans for sex had been foiled. She was about to go back to sleep when she looked to her right and there he was—sleeping like a log and totally unphased by her movements. Suddenly, all the events of the previous day came flooding back. Now she was just pissed off.

A truly wicked thought crossed her mind and she decided to act on it. She untangled herself from the covers and turned to plant her feet against her sleeping husband's backside—then she pushed…hard. She giggled as she heard the satisfying thud.

"Callie! What the fuck?" he exclaimed as he sat up and angrily tossed his pillow at her—missing by a mile.

"You brought this on yourself, Sloan," she replied, glaring at him.

"Enlighten me, evil one," he said as he climbed up from the floor and sprawled across the bed beside her. He never could stay mad at her…especially not when she was in all her naked glory with an adorable case of bed head.

"You made me fall asleep last night!" she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"And why the hell does that warrant a face plant into a hardwood floor?" he asked, completely baffled as to why that would upset her. "How about a thank you, kind husband, for noticing that I was completely exhausted and making sure that I got some much needed rest."

Uh oh, he knew he'd said the wrong thing the second she gave him the eyebrow. Yeah, the infamous Calliope Torres eyebrow. The one he'd found out that she inherited from her mother the hard way. The one that said the person on the receiving end was a pompous jerk who was about to get his ass kicked.

"Thank you? You want a thank you?" she yelled incredulously. She bounded across the bed to straddle him and pinned his arms above his head (which made him feel slightly emasculated for a second until he realized it was insanely hot). "Thank you for being away at your stupid fake tits conference for a whole week instead of staying home and keeping your hands on the real thing. Thank you for being a punk-ass and putting me to sleep when you could have been pounding me into the mattress. Thank you, kind husband, for denying me the multiple orgasms you promised me. We should be having all the freaky sex we can while we're still young! Fuck sleep Mark…we can sleep when we're dead! I should be deliciously sore and sufficiently bruised right now, but I'm not…so thank you, dumb ass."

Mark kind of didn't hear a word she said because she was naked and on top of him and she was pouting by the time she was finished ranting and that was cute and sexy. Instead of responding (which he knew would just get him into more trouble), he strained upward and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. She hated that he knew how to shut her up so effectively, but she released his wrists and decided to go with the flow anyway. Mark took the opportunity to flip her onto her back.

"Baby, we'll never be too old for freaky sex. I'll be bending you over your walker when you're eighty," he rasped as he worried her nipple with his tongue. She moaned softly, causing him to smile against her.

"And you'll break a hip, because you'll be close to ninety, old man," she replied. He growled in response and nipped at the sensitive skin on the underside of her breast. She whimpered and fisted a hand in his hair, urging him to lavish the other lonely twin with the same kind of attention…laughing when he got overzealous and received a mouthful of milk.

"Damn woman, you taste good all over," he said. He began kissing his way down her belly, nipping and licking her soft, bronzed skin as he went along. His busy hands explored her flesh and he smiled every time his handiwork elicited a whimper, sigh, or moan. Pushing himself up on his knees, he spread her thighs wider and smirked as the intoxicating scent of her arousal wrapped around him like a warm blanket.

He took a moment to just look at her and found himself completely in awe. How he had managed to get such a rare gem of a woman was beyond him. She was lying there before him, completely naked, completely exposed…yet totally relaxed and comfortable (in her skin and with him). He loved this woman—utterly, totally, completely. He loved her in a Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill me kind of way, as Callie would say (he didn't know what the hell that meant since that song totally wasn't about love). She was his wife, the mother of his children, his soul mate, his best friend…he could barely remember what life was like before her. She could have any man she wanted and she chose him.

"Planning on staring at me all day?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to each of her knees.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me, beautiful," he replied before leaning up to smooth her eyebrow with his thumb and press a sweet kiss to her forehead. Before he could make a move to return to his previous position, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You know, I can think of a better use for those lips," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a laugh as he kissed his way back down her body. He was busy circling her belly button with his tongue when the phone rang. They both groaned "I'm begging you not to answer that."

"I have to. What if it's important?" she replied as she pushed herself up on her elbows and reached over to grab the phone. He decided to continue on his mission and she gasped as he parted her lips and blew a warm breath over her clit. "Hello?"

"Have you killed him yet?" the voice on the other end of the line asked.

"No, not yet," Callie laughed.

"I called to talk to you last night and he said you were so dead to the world that you didn't even move when the phone rang. He told me what he did, I thought for sure he'd be dead by now," Addison replied. "So anyway, I need to tell you what happened so you can tell me I'm an idiot. I went on a date with Dell last night."

"Details, cradle robber," Callie managed to squeak out. Mark had busied himself with licking that sensitive (and oh so neglected) patch of skin where the upper thigh meets the genital area. His mouth was everywhere except where she really wanted it to be and she was finding it hard to concentrate on what Addison was saying.

"By the sudden change in your breathing, I can tell that you haven't heard a word I've said. Is it safe to assume that Mark is chin deep in Callie Canyon right now?" Addison asked.

"Uh huh," Callie answered breathily.

"…and you, being the awesome friend that you are, were going to let me talk you to death rather than telling me to get off the phone so you can enjoy the many talents of your husband," Addison continued. "I can talk to you tomorrow, dumb ass! I know we agreed to hos before bros…but girl, you have two kids; you need to get it when you can. Love you, babe—I would say have fun, but I already know you will."

"Love you too. Bye," Callie laughed. Before she could hang up, a new call came in. "Hello?"

"I have your spawn…I just thought you would like to know," Meredith said.

"Thanks Mere, I really appreciate it," Callie managed to choke out as she looked down to watch as Mark drew warm, wet circles around her clit.

"You're welcome, but just remember…there are four kids in my house. I won't be getting any tonight, so you have to take one for the team—and be prepared to return the favor some time in the near future," Meredith replied. "I can tell you're busy so I'm going to leave you alone so you can let McSteamy do his thing."

Callie hung up the phone abruptly as Mark slipped two fingers into her and hooked them to massage her G-spot. Her skin flushed hot, her nipples hardened until they ached, and her entire body was humming with arousal. The things this man could do to her should be illegal. She bucked her hips and squirmed as he once again lowered his mouth to her clit. He held her down with a palm flat against her belly. One firm suck and she came hard, uttering something in Spanish that he didn't understand. He moved back up the bed and stretched out beside her. Propping his head up on his hand, he let his eyes rake over her…watching salaciously as her breasts heaved while she tried to catch her breath. She turned to him with hooded eyes and a smile.

"Feel better?" he asked, splaying a hand across the smooth expanse of her stomach and noting the contrast between alabaster and caramel. She wasn't quite ready to speak, but she nodded in agreement. She reached up and smoothed his unruly hair with long delicate fingers. She smiled a little when she felt his dick twitch against her thigh.

"I love you," she whispered. Love really didn't seem like a strong enough word for what she felt for him. Here was a man who had women literally throwing themselves at his feet, and somehow he decided she was the one he wanted. Mark Sloan looked at other women; that was a fact and would always be as long as he had eyes…but that sparkle in his eye? That light? That was reserved solely for her. Her hand slipped down to the back of his neck and she tugged him forward and kissed him softly, sensually, savoring the taste of herself in his mouth. "Damn, I really do taste good."

"Narcissist," he replied with a smile in his voice.

"Slut," she shot back.

"Damn straight, but I'm your slut," he replied.

"So when can we go get "Callie's Bitch" tattooed on your ass?" she asked, starting to stroke him slowly with her other hand.

"Anytime you want if you keep that up," he groaned. As much as he loved what she was doing, he stilled her hand. "Today is all about you, and I seem to recall something about multiple orgasms."

She smiled brilliantly as he moved on top of her, careful not to crush her with his full weight as always. Normally she was the one to take charge, but occasionally she was content to relax and let him do his thing. He settled between her legs and moved his hips in slow circles, coating himself in her slickness.

"Wait, don't forget the condoms," Callie said, stopping him just as he was about to push into her.

"What would you think if I said we should forget about them?" he asked hesitantly.

"I'd remind you that I haven't been on birth control since I got pregnant with Thalia, and if I were to get pregnant now we'd end up with two children under the age of two," she started, "…but I told you before I'd have a dozen gorgeous babies with you and I meant it. So if you're up for it, I am too."

"I was hoping you'd say that," he responded, flashing what could only be described as a completely ridiculous grin. With that he entered her, being sure to take things slow and easy.

"Mmmm," she moaned. "Welcome home."

"There's no place I'd rather be," he replied. As cliché as it sounded, being inside her really was like coming home…warm and safe and full of love.

Several hours after Mark had made good on his word many times, he and Callie were relaxing in a bubble bath. Mark sat opposite her and was busy massaging her feet while she sipped a glass of red wine. The house was unusually quiet. There was only the sound of the water splashing and the Death Cab for Cutie CD Callie picked playing softly in the background. That mass to thick black hair was piled on top of her head haphazardly, and Mark thought she looked more beautiful than ever. He worked his way up, massaging her calves and thighs. When he attempted to slip two fingers into her she hissed and backed away from his touch.

"Sore?" he asked. Concern was written all over his face.

"Yeah, sorry sweetie, but I think the fun is over for tonight. I need a break," she replied.

"Oh thank God!" he exclaimed, relieved. The look she gave him let him know that he'd better elaborate on that statement. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not happy that you're sore…but I'm glad the marathon sex is over. As you so lovingly pointed out earlier, I have nearly ten years on you. I was struggling to keep up for the last couple of rounds."

"Aww, I promise to go easy on you next time, Grandpa," she replied sarcastically.

He pretended to be angry and splashed water in her face, which of course led to retaliation on her part, which quickly headed downhill and sparked a tickle fight, which led to two adults laughing as riotously as their children…and that was a beautiful thing.

Fin.