Lexie and Mark

She was quite familiar with clichés. The Winter and its white roofed houses, with kids playing around in the snow and the parents watching nearby, kissing passionately – that was a nice example of a cliché. Cliché. Something both nauseating and appealing. But she was better than that; she was better than average, and if average fell for unsubtle clichés, she never did.

"Sophia, honey, sleep." She ordered gently, rocking the baby in her arms. The small brunette showed no signs of acknowledging her request, her eyes still wide open. "Why are you not sleeping yet? Is it not dark enough in here?"

Her response was a mere gurgle, soft and quiet.

"Close your eyes, baby. You won't see much either way." She attempted faintly, walking back and forth. The on-call room had never seemed so roomy, and she thanked God for his generous, generous illusion. At least Sophia had stopped crying.

Lexie decided to start humming. "Hmm, hmm. See that, Sophie? I'm humming. I don't hum, and I'm humming for you. A lullaby. So you can sleep. Sleep, sleep…" Was she like a parrot, but different? Would she fall asleep should she repeat it countless times? "Sleep, sleep…"

The baby squirmed in her arms and snuggled deeper into them, yawning.

"Oh, now you're getting the picture." Lexie squealed in delight, and Sophia's barely open eyes widened, scared. Her lower lip started trembling threateningly, a frown on her face. "Oh, no… oh, no, no…"

"La, la, la…" She sung, frantic, fastening her pace. "Hmm, hmm… Hush little baby, don't you cry. Mom's gonna-" She inhaled deeply. "I'm… I'm gonna sing you a lullaby…"

Sophia cried faintly, struggling in her arms.

"Oh, Sophie… You're like bees, not parrots…" Lexie whispered soothingly, a sad smile on her lips. "You smell fear. It's the endorphins, you know? And you smell them, only God knows how, and you know. You know when I'm scared, when I take a step back. And you cry, then. I don't blame you. It can be pretty scary to be in the arms of someone as scared as you are."

Sophia sighed, still pouting.

"And I don't blame you. No, I don't…" She chuckled quietly. "I blame your mother. One of them. Or maybe both, who knows… Maybe they were both plotting against me last night, when you were sleeping, and that cute little face of yours was sleeping and relaxed, not frowning. And maybe that's why you were caught as off guard as I was. Yes…" Lexie smiled knowingly. "Don't think I missed that betrayed look you gave your mother when you heard I'd be your nanny."

Sophia almost smiled. Almost. Because it's impossible for a 2 month-old baby to smile… right?

Lexie giggled, as softly as she could. "I'm a walking cliché right now, you know? Literally. Your father would know… He is a cliché himself. All sensitive, and male, and baby daddy, and smiling, and holding you in his arms…" Her voice faltered. "A walking cliché, I say."

"And as for me? Unloved Grey, who chose the pretty guy over the love of her life out of… fear. Which you, by the way, are quite talented at smelling." She praised the baby, her eyes fixed on the dark. "You saw through me right away. A walking cliché as well… for me to be a complete, full sized cliché, your dad would have to walk through this closed door, staring lovingly at the love of his life with his daughter in his arms – the sarcasm is not at all related to your beauty, honey –, and swoop me in his arms and kiss me like before. Just like before…" Her barely audible murmur faded away against Sophia's light snoring.

Lexie stared at the baby, and stopped dancing around the on-call room. Her legs hurt, and she hoped she had not dug a hole through the floor.

A hand rested on her shoulder.

"I knew she'd fall asleep."

Lexie smiled, her eyes closed, for the darkness was pretty much the same either way.

"She takes after you. A walking cliché."

"And now comes the part when I say…"

"I love you."

A/N: Short, and sweet (hopefully). Slexie rules! Don't let the couple fade away. I Like Avery as well, but with April… let's not mess things up, shall we, producers?

Kisses,

Rita