Cold flecks of sleet landed upon Lexie's neck slowly winding along the delicate curvature of her throat, and found a pathway down beneath the neckline of her light pink argyle sweater, before melting between her breasts. Muttering a pseudo curse word, she hunched her shoulders and tugged up the back collar of her charcoal gray wool pea coat covering her neck and throat as best she could. She hadn't thought to bring a scarf or hat when she ran out the door; her sole focus had been getting away from the apartment - away from George.
Feeling a bit whimsical and dreamy, all due to the holiday season no doubt, she had made the mistake of confessing her former feelings for him only to have George act confused. Once the confusion wore off he proceeded to tell her, in great detail, why they would never work on a romantic level. She told him that she understood. She told him that she even agreed with him. Lexie hadn't even stopped him from continuing his less-than-subtle ramblings to explain why he didn't feel 'that way' about her. Getting up and leaving in the middle of his dialogue had been the only way to save her sanity – never mind that he had been about to leave for his mother's house. She had to get out of there before she did or said something more. So, she headed for the ferry docks. There was nothing like a body of water to put distance between two people.
Lexie crossed her arms, tucking her chin against her chest and took her place in the line waiting to purchase a ticket for the ferry. She had no idea which line she was in, or which ferry she would be boarding; she just knew she had to get away. Silently in the back of her mind, Lexie heard Meredith's voice, with her happy outlook on life, telling her she was running from the problem – that running never solved anything. She needed to confront the matter. Maybe she was trying to escape; but there was no way she could confront the problem, not when she had no idea what the problem was.
"One please," she said quietly to the man in the booth, handing him the exact amount of money it would take to purchase the ticket. He slid a stub through the small opening, scowling when the ticket snagged the bandage on his right thumb. "I'm sorry," she apologized, not knowing why she was bothering. It wasn't her fault the man had injured himself, nor was it her fault the ticket had some how attached itself to the band-aide.
"Ferry leaves in three minutes, better hurry, honey," he drawled. Lexie bit back a smart aleck reply. It wasn't his fault she was in a surly mood for no reason.
"Thank you," Lexie said politely, turning on the ball of her foot. She elbowed her way through the aggressive crowd that had started to form outside the booth. Her gaze dropped, looking at the ticket, she took note of the dock number she would need to make a dash for. Luckily it was only a few hundred feet from the ticket booth. She slipped the ticket to the blue uniformed woman standing next to the boarding plank. No kind words were exchanged, just half of the ticket slapped back into the palm of her hand.
Her way home, she thought with amusement, pocketing the small bit of paper as she stepped onto the ferry.
A bone deep wind cut through her jacket, and she trembled violently, wrapping her arms around her waist. It would have made sense to seek the warmth of the sheltered seating, yet nothing she had done so far made any sense, so why start being sensible now? So, she stood there, shivering as the ferry cut through Puget Sound, headed toward a dock that would put her near downtown Seattle.
"Well, well, well. Look who we have here."
Lexie felt her body stiffen. The tension had nothing to do with the frigid wind blowing up off the water and everything to do with the fact that Mark Sloan had some how managed to appear out of no where. "Go away."
He didn't listen. Not that she thought that he would. Mark Sloan listened to no one. He was his own man which would have been admirable if it wasn't so damn irritating. "It's Christmas Eve, Grey. Do you realize that?"
"I know what day it is," Lexie bit out, huddling deeper into her coat. They were drawing close to docking, something she was eternally grateful for. She didn't have a clue where she was gong once the ferry reached its destination, but she knew it would far from George and his ego shattering ramblings, and, hopefully, far from the man next to her.
"Meredith's having a dinner party of some sort," Mark mused. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and instantly regretted it. He was staring right at her - eyes boring into her. His eyes unnerved her, a deep blue slated with flecks of silver, they reminded her of a winter sky right before a Northerner blew down from Alaska. Not that his gaze was as cold as a winter storm, it wasn't. Usually there was a sharp keen, knowing look to him, dotted with the occasional slip of humanity. He wouldn't admit to, or appreciate the observation of the latter; but Lexie had seen it. It did little for her opinion of him though. Mark Sloan was a known user of women and she had no desire to be added to his long list of Seattle Grace conquests. Nor did she desire to make small chat with him, so she kept quiet, hoping he would take the hint and leave. He didn't. "For Christmas Eve."
"I know," Lexie said tersely. Meredith had told her about the dinner party almost two weeks ago, again a week later, and yet again yesterday. All three times Lexie had declined. She knew why Meredith was asking; obligation. Lexie Grey was nobody's obligation. This was why she had also declined Molly's invitation to tag along to the in laws.
"You know a lot, Lexipedia," he teased, elbowing her. She narrowed her eyes, scooting away from him. "I know a little something that you don't know though."
'Don't ask' she silently commanded herself. Yet, a second later, she heard herself asking the forbidden question.
"Meredith's hurt that you're not going." His answer couldn't have shocked her anymore than if he had pressed the paddles of a fully charged defibrillator on her chest.
"She told you that?" If he said yes, she was going to push him overboard. Meredith only confided in Cristina. If, and it was a rather large if, Meredith felt that way, she wouldn't have told Mark. As it turned out, Lexie was right. Meredith hadn't told Mark, Derek had. "But why? She doesn't like me. She doesn't want me in her life. I'm the non-sister who won't go away."
"You don't really believe that half ass bull **** do you?" Mark shook his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of black great coat. "If Meredith didn't want you in her life, you wouldn't be there."
Lexie resisted the tragic sigh that was forming in her mouth. "I'm not in her life. We work together."
"Wrong. You don't just work together. Hell, half the time you don't even work the same service. She makes a point of seeing you. Come on, Grey, girl smart as you has to see that." His body edged closer to hers.
"You wouldn't have been invited to dinner if you weren't important to her. She doesn't invite just anyone to dinner, you know?"
Guilt gnawed at Lexie. What if Mark was right? What if her not coming had made Meredith feel bad? The idea of Meredith being hurt bothered her. It bothered her so much she found herself telling Mark that she had changed her mind and would be going to Meredith's after all. He had smiled knowingly and offered to let her ride with him. Reluctantly, she agreed, as she couldn't figure out a polite way out of it.
The twenty minute drive from the dock to Meredith's house was made in silence. Lexie was rather grateful for the quiet; it allowed her to mull over the confusion that had been her morning, her life if she was going to be completely honest. As the wheels in her mind churned, she began to understand George's almost hysterical insistence that she couldn't think of him that way. It went back to another friend who had said they loved him. Izzie. The relationship had been almost a year and a half ago, yet the lesson learned still lingered. Friendship and love did not mix unless both parties were sure; clearly he wasn't sure. That had to be it. George wasn't sure of how he felt about her, so he wasn't willing to risk their friendship on something that might or might not work. He cared about her, about their friendship, that much. It was a small consolation, but she was willing to take it. When dinner with Meredith was over, she would call and apologize. She owed him that. Lexie would explain that those feelings had been in the past; and she shouldn't have put him on the spot by bringing them up.
It was Cristina who answered Meredith's door, and it was all Lexie could do to not demand that Mark take her back to the ferry. There was no respect from Cristina, not professionally or personally. The other woman felt there was only room in Meredith's life for one of them, and she was seeing to it that it was her.
Forget that Lexie might need her sister, or that Meredith could benefit from having Lexie in her life. Cristina couldn't see either of those things; she just selfishly clung to keeping her friend for herself.
"I thought you weren't coming," Cristina remarked, stepping aside as Mark sauntered in, shrugging out of his coat as he went. "Meredith said you weren't coming."
"I changed my mind. I wanted to spend Christmas with my sister," Lexie said sweetly. Her lips forced themselves into a small smile. She knew it irked Cristina that she could rightfully claim to be Meredith's sister. It shouldn't have mattered. Meredith always chose Cristina in the end anyways.
"Did you come with Sloan?" The other woman demanded, slamming the door shut after Lexie entered. It was on the tip of Lexie's tongue to tell her it wasn't any of her business. Instead, she shook her head, and said she ran into him on the ferry, where he offered a ride. "I'm sure he'll want something in return."
"And I'm sure you don't know him as well as you think," Lexie muttered. She didn't know if Cristina heard her, and she didn't care. Sure, Mark was an ass, and there was no denying he was a man whore, that didn't mean he wasn't capable of doing something nice just for the sake of being nice. He did kind things all the time; they just went unnoticed by most.
Meredith's face lit up as Lexie walked into the living room. Sitting next to Derek on the love seat, she rose. "I thought you weren't coming." Lexie shrugged. She couldn't tell Meredith that it had been Mark who had changed her mind and she was there only because she felt guilty over making Meredith feel bad. "Well, I'm glad you did. It means a lot. And I promise I won't make you eat any of my eggs."
Brow wrinkled, Lexie couldn't help but shoot Mark a look. Eggs were not a traditional Christmas side item. Or they hadn't been when Lexie's mother cooked dinner. That didn't mean they weren't a tradition for Meredith or Derek, or even Cristina. Although, Lexie was fairly sure Cristina was Jewish and didn't really do the whole Christmas thing. "Stuffed eggs - Derek loves stuffed eggs."
"Oh," Lexie whispered. Even if she hadn't been allergic, she would have steered clear of the stuffed eggs. She wasn't positive, but she was willing to bet they were the same thing as her Aunt Clarice's doubled eggs, and if that was the case she was better off being allergic.
The stuffed eggs were exactly like her Aunt Clarice's doubled eggs, and didn't look anymore appetizing. However, the rest of the meal looked picture perfect. Most of it had been made by Izzie and Alex, Lexie learned. Over turkey, sage stuffing, and pumpkin, walnut crunch Lexie found herself forgetting her earlier feelings of turmoil, confusion, and dismay. Mark and Derek kept them all laughing with tales of past Christmas', each man trying to outdo the other as far as embarrassing tales went. Cristina contributed a rather amusing story about her mother redecorating the whole living room to match one ornament; of course this was before her mother married a Jewish dentist. Even Alex and Izzie added their own laugh worthy recounting of putting together the dinner before them. Apparently, Alex had almost baked the turkey with the plastic bags of innards still inside, and Izzie had confused the cinnamon with cayenne pepper, which was why the sweet potatoes had a rather interesting bite to them.
By the time dinner was over, and it was time to leave, Lexie realized she had forgotten all about George's earlier pronouncement that he didn't, and wouldn't, feel that way about her. She also found herself eternally thankful that Mark had guilt tripped her into coming. She even went so far as to say so as they were putting their coats on.
"Just how thankful?" Mark wiggled his eye brows, a light of amusement sparkling in their silvery depths. "Thankful enough to give me a kiss?" he asked. Cristina was right, she thought sadly. Mark Sloan didn't do anything just to be nice. He must have read her thoughts because the light faded in his eyes. "We're under the mistletoe, Grey."
Lexie lift her eyes. Surely enough, the green and red plant was attached to the doorframe between the living room and foyer. It hadn't been their earlier, had it? She didn't remember it being there, but then she hadn't been looking for it either. Her rash judgment instilled feelings of remorse and guilt. "I'm sorry. It's just.…You're you and…"
Mark nodded his jaw hard. "I'm a whore. I get it, Grey. Everything I do is subject to suspicion." She shook her head. He hadn't let her finish. It had had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with her. Not everything he did was subject to suspicion, she had told him. Yet, telling him that did little to soften his gaze or to bring the smile back. "I know who and what I am, Grey. You don't have to…"
Taking a deep breath, her heart pounding wildly, Lexie rose on her tip toes and cut him off with a kiss. It wasn't anything special, just her puckered lips pressing against his. She placed her palms in the middle of his chest and pushed back, rather pleased with herself. She had just laid one on Mark Sloan. And it had felt great. No, it had felt better than great. It had felt exciting. "Merry Christmas, Dr. Sloan."