So, yes, this is gonna be Mark and Lexie; it's my first real time writing them. (The other one didn't count. ) Anyways, you should know (if you don't already) that I cannot STAND Lexie, and the thought of Mark and Lexie makes me wanna vomit. However, I was in the kitchen, scooping some Splenda into my coffee mug, and I heard her voice. This must make me crazy, I know, but it's the writing process, and I'm sure many of you are familiar with that, lol. Anyways. I hope you enjoy it (and even if you don't), drop me a line to let me know you're here and reading. It means a lot.


I wish I could link the song to youtube here, but I can't. So just search for it, lol. ;D

The song, oh, what can I say about that? Jason Mraz is my favorite artist; his lyrics are strong, beautiful… the music is always delicate, but powerful. iTunes shuffle is a brilliant thing. I heard this song Friday morning (and as already previously stated, it is my favorite one), and knew I had to try to write something for Grey's for it. It's my first fic-related writing in nearly two months, I'm a bit out of practice.

Oh, you should also probably know that the crossover was the first full episode of the season I've seen (because I am a diehard Addison fan, and also, I prefer Private Practice this season, even if it is contrived drama).

Enough rambling.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I in any way affiliated with, Grey's Anatomy. All characters are the property of Shondaland, et al. Nor do I own the song.

-xXx-

The first thing I notice upon my return from Los Angeles – aside from Seattle's angry, yet somehow welcoming rain and cooler temperatures, of course – is how empty the apartment is when I open the door. The air is somehow stale, the apartment dark and empty of everything that belongs to Lexie. Her framed photographs are taken off the walls, leaving ugly, exposed nails in their places. Her clothes, shoes, notebooks and textbooks are gone, too. If I try hard enough, breathe deeply enough, I could probably still smell her scent on the couch or in the bed.

"Damn," is all Sloan says when she steps in behind me. "She's really gone, huh?"

I drop my daughter's duffel bag at our feet and look down at her. "Looks that way," I offer before silence filters around us.

She wraps her arm around my back and pulls me closer to her. "I'm really sorry, Mark. I know it's my fault."

Her words take me by surprise, and for a brief moment, I almost let her take the blame. "I'm your dad, kid. I'd choose you over anyone, every day. It wasn't fair of her to do that."

"That was kind of lame," Sloan replies, and she pulls her arm away from me, almost too quickly. She must have felt it, too, because she turns toward me and says, "I am sorry, though. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

I don't say anything, can't say anything.

So she says, "I think I'll go take a shower… and then maybe take a nap, if that's okay with you?"

"Whatever you want, baby," I whisper, my voice cracking slightly. She studies me for a brief moment – narrowing her eyes at me and looking me up and down – before she turns away and walks toward the bathroom.

I pick her duffel bag back up and take it into her makeshift bedroom and set it down on her bed. As I unzip the bag to unpack her things – that's what a father would do, right? – a picture taped up on the wall catches my eye. It is her last sonogram, the one taken before the whole amniotic bands/Addison/Lexie break-up mess. I cross the room and pull the sonogram from the wall, holding the thin film in my hands. My heart swells, and I hear Addison's voice.

Grandpa. Grandpa. Grandpa.

At not even forty, I shouldn't be a grandpa. Hell, if I'm being honest, I shouldn't be a father. They're right, all of them – Addison, Derek, Sam, Naomi, even Lexie; I can barely take care of myself. But now I have Sloan, who is eighteen and about to be a mother herself. I have no choice but to be a father to this girl, to be the father I'm guessing … to be the father I know she's never had. I will help her raise this baby. I will do right by my little girl, by my namesake.

I stare at this sonogram for what feels like an eternity, this little 'sneak peek' of my future, and tears fill my eyes. I let one fall as I sit down on her brand-new bed.

I hear Sloan clear her throat as she timidly knocks on the room-divider-slash-door to her bedroom. "Daddy?" she whispers, her voice small and almost child-like. She crosses the room and sits down on the bed beside me; I pull her close, and she rests her head on my shoulder. "Do you…," she pauses as she reaches out and takes the picture from me. "Can we do this?"

"We're Sloans, kid," I reply, putting a brave face on. "We can do anything."

She half-laughs, half-snorts at my response. "You know how to change diapers? Because I sure as hell don't."

I shrug in response, chuckling a little. "We'll figure it out."

"Daddy," she says suddenly, her voice serious and… older … now.

It is the second time she's called me 'daddy'. But I barely register that now; she sounds almost panicked, so naturally, I am panicked, too. "What's the matter?" I ask, worrying about her and the baby. "Are you in pain, Sloan?"

She sits up and turns toward me, resting her hand on her tiny baby bump. She shakes her head, but tears line her eyes. "What if I… want to give this baby up for adoption? What if I can't… what if we can't be enough for him?"

"What makes you say that?" is what I manage to say, taken aback by her question.

"I am a teenager, Mark. You're a plastic surgeon who is almost never home. Both you and I… we can't take care of a healthy baby. What if he still has serious health complications?"

"We've been over this, baby," I reply. "I have plenty of vacation time saved up, I can take a leave from the hospital if necessary. We'll pay for the best doctors… Addison will come back to Seattle if she needs to. We can do it, Sloan. Don't give up hope," I add, because it seems like a fatherly thing to say.

"I didn't come here to dump all of this responsibility on you."

I sigh, and for some reason, guilt washes over me. "I… I'm your dad. And I know, I'm not a perfect person… and I barely even know you, and that's my own fault. And it's Samantha's fault, too. She should have called me. I would have been there for you. I would have loved to get to know you before now. And I'm gonna try like hell to make it up to you, okay? Trust me, baby. We can do this."

Tears cascade down her cheeks. She shakes her head and whimpers, "Daddy."

I lean over and press a kiss to her forehead. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course," she replies, wiping at her tears. "I trust you."

"Then," I say with a brief pause, "there's no more talk about giving up."

"Okay," she counters, and she narrows her eyes at me. By now, I recognize this look. It's the look I've gotten from Samantha, from Addison, from Lexie… from any woman I've ever slept with (or known). It's the "I'm about to say something smart-assy" look. She crosses her arms over her chest. "If we're not giving up… then you have to call Lexie. Because I know how much she means to you."

She looks smug. I smile and say, "Take your nap, kid," as I stand from the bed.

"Seriously, Mark. Call her or something," she says with a shrug as she lies down and stretches out across the bed. She looks at me expectantly.

I shake my head and turn her light off. "Have a good nap," I tease. She shakes her head at me and closes her eyes.

I leave her in the darkness and head into my bedroom to unpack my own luggage. After about twenty minutes of silence – a silence that never would have been there before, normally Lexie would be chattering my ear off, or she and Sloan would be arguing about something – I decide that my daughter's right. I place a few calls to the hospital, and after a brief conversation with Derek (who says he has something to tell me, something that could change everything), I learn that it's Lexie's day off, and that she's at Meredith's.

Of course she is.

I make the drive across town to the 'Casa de Grey,' hoping that Lexie is the only one there. At a red light, I wonder if I should stop and get her flowers or something.

"Nah," I say out loud. "Too cheesy," I add. 'Too desperate, too,' is what I'm thinking.

We've never had a flowers-and-apologies relationship… to be honest, I suppose it was mostly sexually charged. And based on the forbidden, an act of rebellion.

But somewhere along the way, somehow… I managed to fall in love with Alexandra Caroline Grey.

I knock on the door three times, and ring the doorbell once, before Karev – sporting pajama bottoms and red, tired eyes, a cereal bowl in hand – opens the door. "Hey, man," he says, avoiding eye contact.

"Lexie here?" I ask.

"Uh, yeah. She's in Mer's room, I think," he says, keeping his eyes focused on the floor. "How's your kid?"

"She's fine. Baby looks good," I answer honestly, somewhat comforted by the fact that, even though I know he was only making conversation, he at least asked how my girl is doing. "Mind if I come in?"

"Go on up," he replies, moving out of my way. He shuts the door behind me as I step into the foyer. He heads back to the living room and plops down on the couch before turning the volume up on the TV. I shake my head and head toward the stairs.

I knock on Meredith's bedroom door.

"Who is it?" Lexie's voice floats through the door, and, I swear to God, my heart skips a beat. I've missed her. What the hell has she done to me?

"Little Grey?" I whisper, reverting back to the nickname I knew she hated.

She opens the door and sighs. Her eyes meet mine, and she looks pissed off. "What are you doing here, Mark?"

"Hello to you, too," I say with a smirk, but she doesn't look amused. She narrows her eyes at me, and I recognize this look too. It's the "you're such an asshole, Mark Sloan" look. I offer her a sheepish smile and a shrug. "Can we talk?"

She opens the door all the way. "Just let me get my jacket," she says with a sigh. A small, maybe insincere smile unfolds on her lips, before it falls again. Her eyes cloud with sadness. "Oh, God. Is Sloan okay? Is the baby okay?" she asks in a worried tone.

"She's fine," I quickly reply.

Relief washes over her features. "Oh, thank God," she gushes. "Let me get my coat, and we can go on a walk," Lexie says.

I smile as I wait for her.

"Okay," she says softly, her cheeks pink as she rejoins me in the hallway. "Ready? I think there's a park somewhere down the street."

"That's fine," I reply, watching her as she looked away from me and led the way down the stairs.

We walk in relative silence, the only sounds are our even breaths and the creaking stairs under our shifting weight.

"Where you goin'?" Alex asks from his place on the couch, slurping cereal off of his spoon.

She narrows her eyes at him and, almost angrily, replies, "None of your business."

He scoffs, and an almost gleeful smirk crosses his lips. "Whatever you say, babe."

Her cheeks burn when my eyes meet hers. I give her a questioning glance, but she looks away, turning her attention back to Alex. "Shut the hell up, Karev," she defends. "Let's go, Mark," she says a quick moment later, tugging on my arm.

"See ya later, Karev," I say, if only to feel less awkward.

He waves, a cocky grin now across his lips, before returning his attention to his now-soggy cereal and the sports recaps on ESPN. Lexie keeps her eyes focused on the ground as we leave the house.

We walk down the street in absolute silence now. The rain has, by this time, let up a bit, so it's now a delicate mist instead of the earlier storm. Our hands hang between us in an awkward limbo; she still hasn't said a word to – or even looked at – me.

We reach the park within a few minutes. "Swings?" I ask, knowing that she'd say yes.

She nods and once again takes the lead. She sits down on a swing, not bothering to dump the gathered puddle of water off of the seat. I step behind her and take the chains in my fingertips. I pull the chains back, ready to push the swing, ready to set the pendulum in motion, but she digs her heels into the muddy-dirt.

"Wait," she whispers.

"What, Lex?"

"I slept with Alex," she blurts out barely a second later.

I drop from the chains from my grip – and she loses her footing briefly, shifting forward – and I suck in a deep breath. She steadies herself. Her words wound me… but only because she surprises me. I had suspected something like this, simply because of the way they were acting at the house. But it still stung. I mean… damn.

"Say something," she urges.

I suck in a deep breath again, trying – but failing – to quickly recover. "I slept with Addison."

She stands up from the swing fast and quickly turns around to face me. Her eyes are wide; she looks pissed. I open my mouth to say something, but she slaps me first. Her hand is quick on my cheek – only there for a millisecond – but she uses enough force that she leaves a hot print on my skin.

"Oh," she gasps, immediately apologetic. She places her fingertips back on my cheek, her eyes softening. She tears up almost immediately. "I'm so… sorry."

"What exactly are you sorry for, Lexie?"

Her lip quivers and a tear trickles down her cheek. She shakes her head and angrily wipes at her bright red cheeks. I reach out to her, but she shoves my arm away. The rain picks back up with the shifting wind; thunder rolls in the distance.

"Lexie…," I say, but that's all I manage as I study her. For the first time, I'm realizing how young she really is. She's barely seven years older than Sloan… and for the first time, she looks it. She looks insecure, unsure, young… vulnerable. I run my hand over my hair, smoothing it back with the rain.

Raindrops cling to her hair, clumping it together. She shivers. "All of it." Her voice cracks. "But mostly…," she says a moment later, "I'm sorry I tried to make you choose between your daughter, who so very clearly needs you… and me. That wasn't fair. It wasn't… fair," she rambles, her voice trailing off to a cracked whisper.

Lightning flashes in the sky. I look up, and judging by the storm clouds that have rolled in, we have about ten minutes before it gets too bad… before it gets to the point where we shouldn't be outside. It's early in the year for such a storm – it's still only winter, but it looks as if it could be late summer – but… that's … life.

She looks up at the sky, too. "Maybe we should head back to Meredith's," she offers.

I shake my head 'no.' "We can't talk there," I explain and she nods in agreement. "My car is there, though. We can go somewhere…"

"Ferry," she says with a shrug.

I just nod, unsure of what to say. She hangs her head and takes a step back toward the park entrance. Before she's out of my reach, I reach out and grab her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. I grip her hand in mine and squeeze it protectively, silently letting her know that somehow, it would all be okay.

She reluctantly squeezes my hand back; we walk back to the house in silence. She goes inside, only to grab a dry coat and her purse while I wait in my car. The windshield wipers fall into a pattern – click, wipe, click, wipe – as I back the car out of the driveway.

She sighs as she pulls her seatbelt over her shoulder and across her lap, pressing it into the lock. I reach over and turn the radio off. Lexie leans over and turns it back on. "Stop it," I say. "We need to talk."

Lexie reaches her hand back out and presses the button. "Sam called Derek and told him you were thinking of moving to LA with Sloan to be with Addison… to have her help you raise the baby," she says softly. "I didn't … I thought something was seriously wrong with Sloan and the baby! I couldn't sleep, Mark. I couldn't eat. Cristina shoved me to the pit because I couldn't even focus on charting!" she screeches.

I press my foot to the brake as we approach a red light. "I didn't want to bother you."

She scoffs. "Are you even listening to me? You and your daughter and that little, itty-bitty baby… you were all I could think about for days! And then I hear through the frickin' hospital grapevine that you're leaving for Los Angeles?!"

My cheeks burn as the light turns green; I tap lightly on the gas. "It was just talk, Lexie. Seattle, as much as I hate it sometimes, is home."

"Did Addison turn you down?" Her immaturity shines through with this question.

And as much as I hate to admit it, it stings. "No," I reply softly. "I turned her down."

She gives me an incredulous look.

"Don't give me that look; it's the truth," I say, almost defensively. "And I know, I know that I threw a lot at you… with moving Sloan in, and saying that we'd help her raise the baby… and that wasn't fair to you either," I explain, and my voice cracks ever so slightly. By now, we've reached the ferry, just in time before it leaves the dock. I put the car into 'park' in the designated spot. "You're young… you're still wet behind your ears, Lexie. That wasn't something I should have just volunteered you to do. We should have discussed it. And for that, I apologize. I love you."

"Wow," she manages to squeak out, tears flooding her eyes once again. She unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the passenger side door, and within seconds, she's up and out of the car.

I rub my hands over my face before unbuckling my own seatbelt. I open the door and step out, pressing the lock on my keys before turning around to search for her.

After a long three or so minutes, I find her on the top deck of the ferry, leaning over the railing and looking out at the water. I tap her on the shoulder and she turns around and looks at me. Her eyes are red and swollen, her cheeks bright red. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish, as she searches for the words to say.

I reach out and smooth her wet, matted hair away from her face. I cup her cheek in my hand; she whimpers. "So here we are…," I say as another clap of thunder rolls through the sky.

She jumps as a bolt of lightning quickly flashes after the thunderclap. "I've been thinking about it, over and over and over again… making lists and analyzing every detail… and it doesn't make sense for me to want to do this, but Mark," Lexie says, almost breathlessly as she begins her Meredith-like – they are sisters, after all – ramble, "I want to help you. I don't know what the hell I was thinking before! But you're right, you're so… right. She needs us to help her, she's your daughter! And if that means I'm gonna be a grandmother at the age of twenty-five… well, then, I'm probably the youngest grandma ever. Call the Guinness Book of World Records, for all I care… but I…"

I cut her off by pressing my lips to hers. She snakes her arms around my neck, and I deepen the kiss, reconnecting with her almost instantly. "Lexie," I say softly, breaking apart from her for a moment. I run my thumb over her cheek. "Are you serious?"

She nods and grins. "We'll all learn together. I'm sure it won't be easy, and that Sloan and I won't see eye-to-eye ninety percent of the time, and that we'll all fight constantly… but this baby, he needs all of us. We'll just have to make it work. It's simple."

I smile at her words before leaning down to press another kiss against her lips. "Ferry's docking," I say, and she laughs. "What?" I ask, slightly confused.

"All of my stuff is at my sister's... plus the apartment is by the hospital," she explains. "Neither location required a ferry ride." She dissolves into giggles.

I smile, and say, "It doesn't matter."

She leans up and kisses me, reconnecting again. "It'll be a long ride back," she mumbles in between kisses.

"Mmm," I agree. I pull her in for a tight hug; she rests her head on my chest. We stand there together – face to face, heart to heart – and I know that… as much as it killed me to leave Addison, who I loved at one time… I somehow made the right choice.

Lexie is the right choice.

Hours later, we return home from Meredith's – where we packed Lexie's stuff back up, but to be honest, most of it was still in the black trash bags she had used, so it was fairly simple. Derek had said he needs to talk to me about that 'thing' – it was huge, life-altering and it needed to stay between 'us' – but really, I wasn't in the mood for gossip… or any other life-changing events. I'd had enough for one day. All I wanted to do was go home and spend time with my girls. And I told him that much, too. Alex called me a pussy, but you know… at least I'm not the one who's waiting around for an absent wife to show back up. I told him that, too. And I got the "You're a dick, Mark Sloan" look from both Grey sisters.

Sloan is sitting on the couch, her hair in a loose ponytail, when Lexie and I walk in the door, hand in hand. She turns around and looks at us, her smile wide, reaching from ear to ear. "Hey," she says, patting the cushions on the couch beside her. "I just ordered pizza, I hope that's okay. I was getting worried…," her voice trails off as her hand falls to her baby bump.

I smile at her. She seems older now, only though it's been a few hours since I've last seen her. Motherly. So, naturally, I tease her. "Hey, who's the parent here?" I ask, and Lexie nudges my shoulder.

"Sometimes," Sloan says, playfully narrowing her eyes, "it's hard to tell."

We all laugh. Lexie moves to take her bags back to the bedroom. "We'll do that later," I say, tugging on her free hand to pull her back. "What are you watching, Sloan?"

"Some Lifetime movie," she shrugs, "but we can watch something else. Together?"

I glance to Lexie, who nods and smiles, setting the trash bags back down on the floor. We step into the living room and join my daughter on the couch. She slides over to the far left cushion, and Lexie takes the seat on the right, leaving me to sit in the middle between them.

Sloan absently flips through the channels, draping her legs over mine to get more comfortable. Lexie cuddles up beside me, and for the first time in what feels like forever… I'm happy.

When the pizza delivery guy arrives, Sloan is up and at the door before I can even react. Normally, it would be an argument, trying to decide who'd have to get up to get it. But not this time. She hands him a twenty, and as an afterthought, shoves a few crumpled singles into his hand for a tip. She grabs a roll of paper towels from the kitchen-slash-study-slash-laundry room and heads back into the living room.

She sets the pizza onto the coffee table and rushes back into the kitchen; she returns seconds later with three water bottles and a picture frame. She hands a bottle to both Lexie and me before propping the frame up on its stand on the table.

"Where did you get that?" Lexie asks, her eyes on the frame, as she takes a sip of water.

Sloan shrugs. "You forgot it in the kitchen. I found it when I was cleaning up earlier."

"You cleaned?" I ask incredulously, and both she and Lexie nudge my shoulder as Sloan rejoins us on the couch.

"Shut up," she teases, and I laugh as I lean over and kiss her cheek.

Silence surrounds us for a few moments as we all, simultaneously, look to the photo that is now proudly displayed on the coffee table. It's the one Bailey snapped of us at Christmas – before Sloan and Lexie were fighting – and though our smiles are superficial, that's us in the 'before'. I sit back against the couch.

"Well, let's eat!" Lexie cheerfully says, effectively breaking the silence.

I watch as they each grab a slice and settle back against the couch. The TV is playing some show on MTV – which didn't seem to have anything to do with music, defeating the purpose of the channel – and the ladies in my life are calm and happy. I glance back and forth between them.

"What?" they ask at the same time.

Sloan has cheese hanging from her lip; Lexie's mouth is full. They both dissolve into giggles. I smile, shake my head and grab a piece of pizza for myself. We eat and absentmindedly listen to the show as we make small talk.

It feels like home.

If this is a glimpse of the future, of the 'after'… I'll take it.