The night had fallen quickly, as his day began to wind down. Patients were in their beds, resting, and he was beginning to feel the effects of the long day that'd wore on him. He sighed softly, changing out of his scrubs to his normal clothes before Callie had walked into the lounge, having a smile on her face. Mark rose an eyebrow, knowing that something good had to have happened. Torres was a happy person, but this was an unusual smile. More happier than her normal, Callie-Torres-Smile.
"What's the smile for?" He asked, hearing the patter of rain hit the window. Seattle was living up to its reputation, now; just like it had been for most of the day.
She sighed to herself, as she began to strip of her scrubs. Mark watched, but if he was honest, he wasn't interested in her right now. Letting her top fall onto the bench and her pants fall, Mark slid his wallet into his pocket, as she let her hair down.
"Lexie Grey," She said with a smile. "She is amazing in the OR. Don't count her out, Mark."
It was true that he'd avoided putting her on his service, or rather, allowing. He had been told by Derek in a clear, precise way. Don't sleep with Little Grey. He had found it hard to not do so, but he was managing. Somehow, anyways.
"I never did." He said with a raised brow.
Callie rose a brow back, looking at him. "On her schedule, you're the only one she hasn't been with. Well, in the past few weeks, anyway. She's already been with Hahn three times, and I've had her twice."
Mark shrugged. "I'm not good with interns, anyway," he said, placing scrubs into the locker.
"I'm telling you," she said with a smile once more. "Don't count her out."
Mark could only nod, before looking at the door, as he began to walk to it. Callie looked at him with a smile.
"Hey, you up for a drink? I've had a pretty successful day today." She said, closing her own locker.
Mark shook his head, knowing that he needed to get home and just... sleep. He had to wash away the thoughts that had just invaded his mind, and rest.
"Raincheck?" He asked, and she just nodded.
"Fine. But you're buying next time."
"Sounds good. Night, Torres." He says, before hearing her call back with the same response, before walking out of the lounge.
...
He's sitting in his hotel room, wondering if he should go to bed just yet or order room service and a movie. He's torn, as his eyes are somewhat ready for sleep, but then, he can't help but think of her. Her brown har that falls just past her shoulders; the look of innocence on her face, that could turn to a devilish, dangerous look in just a split second. He can't remember feeling like this since he was thinking about Addison. But this time, he made sure to follow Derek's advice. No sleeping with Little Grey.
He's in sweats, and a grey t-shirt so that when he does answer the door for room service, he's not naked. He's got the news on, watching what happened in Seattle. All the similar cases he saw at the hospital, and a few other stuff about the economy, and how stocks are falling and whatnot. Whatever, he thinks, as he has nothing invested thankfully. Times'd been tough.
Finally, there's a knock at his door. Finally. He was famished, honestly. He'd had the blueberry scone in the morning with a small cup of coffee, and another cup at noon, without really eating much more than an apple. He'd had a thing for apples; they were just the right flavor. His hand extends to the doorknob, opening it before getting ready to pay the employee for the food he'd ordered, just as he saw the shoes. The heels. Jeans. Tight purple sweater. This wasn't a hotel employee.
"You made her speak." Her voice is soft, out of breath from the walk over. She'd been thinking about this all day. "Mrs. Patterson."
It was a miracle that he did, really, but he did it. It was a new procedure that was successful, and would make the papers, for sure.
"She said hi, she spoke," she said, smiling up at him. "You made her speak."
Mark can only stand there like a fool, knowing that all of his thoughts were rushing forward like a tidal wave. He can't even tell his jaw is open, hanging down in pure astonishment to see her at his door. How did she get his room number? Wasn't that confidential, or something? He was caught off guard, yet again, when she let herself into his hotel room, turning around in the middle of the living room.
"I respect you, as a man," she began, as he turned to watch her. "As a, a surgeon," she said, doe eyes meeting his. He knew the look. "As a teacher, I respect you."
Her voice is shaky, and she knows that what she is about to do is rather extreme, but she can't help it. She'd put the puzzle together, finally clicking when Sadie gave her the advice. Wasn't it so blantly obvious, Grey? Mark has a crush on you! So she didn't waste another moment.
"Teach me."
Teach me. The words mesmerized him, as he watched her slowly drop articles of clothing. Her jacket coming off, falling to the floor, before her fingers grabbed the edge of her tight, purple sweater, removing the article of clothing as she never broke eye-contact with him until the clothing met her eyes.
"What are you- don't do that- stop," he says, so quickly that he didn't even understand himself.
"Teach me,"
She repeats, disregarding his command, only to remove her heels, throwing them to the side. The room was warm, even with her purple lace tanktop exposing most of her skin. She wasn't stopping, and he realized the door was still open. Room service could barge in any moment. He closes the door, before commanding her to stop once again. She disregards it, by unbuttoning her pants.
"We can't do this," he begins, shaking his head. "You're Little Grey, and I - I promised,"
"Teach me."
She repeats once more, cutting him off, looking into his eyes as she brings the jeans down her thighs, as the tight clothing pooled at her ankles. She steps out of it, before looking up at him.
"And I'm your teacher." he says finally, before she looks up at him with a smile.
"So," she grins. "Teach me."
She pulls over her tank top, revealing her undershirt now. He turns away, feeling as if he looked any longer, pure instinct would take over. He knew the temptations; he could barely handle seeing her in scrubs, let alone this. He's staring at the floor, as all that's left is her bra and panties. The magenta-laced clothing; his favorite. She pauses, and he looks up to make sure she's not crying or anything. Women had a thing like that.
"C'mon," she breathes. "Am I really so bad?" She asks, looking down at her body, becoming self-conscious once more. The few drinks that she had were proving to be helpful, but they were wearing off. What was she doing? Why was she here? He was Mark Sloan; the manwhore of Seattle Grace. She had no business in his hotel room; none at all. Yet here she was, staring at him as she began to feel chilly no matter the temperature.
He's totally hypnotized by her body now, feeling himself become hard in his sweatpants at just the sight of her like this.
"No," he starts, before looking at her with his jaw still dropped. "I am."
He closes the space between them quickly, picking her head up into a kiss as his fingers surf through her hair, feeling how soft it is as his lips pressed against hers, feeling how soft they were as well. Her fingers scratched through his hair, lips feeling overjoyed. She can feel herself dive into endorphins, as his hands unclip her bra. She moans as he kisses her neck, making a trail for her lips, to her jawline, and so forth. She rolls her head back, letting him in.
"Wait," she says, barely audible as her senses are overloaded. "Put the sign on the doorhandle. Please,"
He's wondering how she knew that he was expecting room service, before getting up and doing so. She's on the bed, topless with only her panties on, looking at him with doe eyes. She has her hands over her center, before he only smirks, pulling his shirt over his head. Tonight was going to be fun, he told himself.
...
His head crashes against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling as she does the same. He isn't sure of the time, having lost track, but somehow the tv was turned off, and the sheets were undone and ruffled. He pants, sweat piled on his chest and forehead as he can see her chest doing the same. She's still topless, naked as he is. She smiles, looking over to him.
"That was fun," she said with an out of breath tone.
"Yeah," he says with a nod. "You're amazing."
She feels herself blush, before sitting up, getting out of the bed, and walking over to the kitchen area. He's afraid she'll get up and put her clothes on and leave, but she doesn't. Instead, she opens the fridge, hungry. There's a couple leftover takeout containers, that she finds. She takes one, looking over to him.
"Do you mind if I-"
"Not at all."
She nods, before grabbing a fork, along with another. It's chinese; lo-mein, to be exact. She brings it over to the bed, before she hands him a fork with a smile.
"So tell me," she says with the smile, sitting next to him. "Are you that good of a surgeon all of the time, or is it just a one-time thing?"
He laughs, looking into her eyes as she opens the box once more. Taking the fork, he swirls it into the box, lifting it out and biting it.
"I'm a plastics god. Best in my field," he says with a smirk.
Lexie laughs, following his action. She pauses shortly after, looking at him. "Is this why you haven't put me on your service?" She asks, seeing him freeze at the question. Bingo. She had thought that Mark was really just avoiding her because of her crush or fling or whatever it was with George that she had. Though, it didn't exactly make sense.
"Derek asked me to do something very specific," he said softly. "He told me not to sleep with you. You know what happened with Addison," he says, looking at her. "I'm sure even the janitors at the hospital know it by now."
Lexie nods, knowing his past. She knew that he'd gotten shot down with love, much like she had with George. There was just someone else, and timing wasn't perfect. Chewing, she swallows before she glances down.
"You and I are in the same boat." She says quietly.
Mark raises an eyebrow, before he even remembers her crush on O'Malley. "O'Malley," he starts. "Did you and him ever...?"
She shakes her head. "No. He wasn't interested." She says.
He sees the pain at the subject, before shaking his head. "He's a fool," Mark says softly, before looking into her eyes with a smirk. "You are beautiful and talented as a surgeon."
Lexie blushes; a compliment from Mark Sloan, who had called her pathetic just weeks before. Though, she knew he was really just playing. Lexie had caught him staring, multiple times though. As she walked down the hall, her sky-blue scrubs clinging to her ass due to his eyes bore onto them. She could feel herself blushing each time, too nervous to look back.
"Don't act like you aren't." Mark says, smirking once more as he sees her try to brush off the reaction. She's bruised and insecure since her interaction with George, he guesses.
Lexie puts her fork down, before leaning onto her side, mimicing his stance and looking into his eyes.
"How about we take that room service and split it?" She asks, being all bold again. She knows its his food, and there's takeout right here, but she can tell it's a few days old. "You set everything up, and I'll be in the shower, waiting for you to join me."
Mark raises an eyebrow at her sexual innuendo, before nodding at her. He gets up, sliding on boxers and sweatpants as he makes his way to the door, bringing in the cart that had been left with a receipt that'd be added to his bill. He rolls the cart to the living room, before glancing over and seeing her take off her panties slowly as she made her way into the bathroom. The sound of the shower going began to fill the room, and he could only smirk at the action.
Derek was going to kill him for this, but he couldn't resist. He turned to go shut the door, finding the 'Do Not Disturb' sign still on the door, closing the world from his room.
He shuts the door without taking it off, and makes his way to the bathroom, ridding of his sweatpants and boxers. Do not disturb.