Author Notes: Hi everyone. After a long pause, I'm back. Here a story for all who love Mark and Lexie like me. They were my favourite couple. It's the story of them told through all the missing moments that we have never seen. My FF begins from the first episode of season 5. Here the first chapter. It's a little shorter, but the next will be longer. I hope you like it. Other characters will be involved later.
Dream a little dream of me part 1: Vanilla.
Mark did not know how long it had been since he had decided to close himself in his small office, with the excuse of having to sort out some medical records. Maybe it has just been ten minutes, or maybe twenty. He had lost count. All he knew was that he had suddenly felt the need to be alone. Mark had to get away from that patient's room, which had inexplicably smelled of vanilla instead of any regular hospital room. He had to get away from her; Lexie Grey.
"Shut up?" He could not get her words out of his head. How could Lexie Grey talk to him like that — speak to one of her teachers with that tone? She was an intern, and Mark was of a higher grade than her; he should not have let her answer him in that way, and not only once but three times. Damn it! Why did he allow it to happen? And above all, why could he not get it out of his head? The answer was simple: it was Lexie. He did not know what it was, but there was something about her that intrigued him. And, no, he was not talking about her questionable taste in men. The office door opened suddenly, and Mark had to blink his eyes twice to make sure that the girl in front of him was Lexie.
"You! This is all your fault!" Lexie had come into his office like fury, with her hair in the air and a murderous look on her face that Mark only found amusing. It almost made him laugh. The vanilla smell that he had smelt before invaded the whole room. It must have been the scent of her hair. Her beautiful, brown hair.
"Has not anyone ever taught you to knock, Dr Grey? Perhaps I should remind you again that I'm your attending; you can't jump and talk to me like that."
"I do not care who you are. Go and tell George that there is absolutely nothing between us," she shouted. Certainly, this Grey really had an impressive temper, he thought.
"Why, what should there be?" Mark asked, trying to simulate total indifference and to ignore his thoughts about her.
"George is convinced that you and I sleep together."
"He what?" OK, this is not happening. Lexie Grey did not just mention them in bed together. Mark closed his eyes, taking a huge breath. The situation was so absurd that anyone would have laughed, but he could not do it.
"As if I could ever sleep with someone like you," she added, almost indignant. That sentence inexplicably bothered Mark more than anything else she had told him before.
"That's enough, Grey!" he said firmly. He had to end their conversation. He had to impose his authority as her teacher. "If you have some kind of medical explanation to ask or some information about the patient, then I'll be happy to answer you. But if you don't, please leave this room." Those words, to Mark's great relief, seemed to have the desired effect, and Lexie finally seemed to calm down.
"You are right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have," Lexie apologised. "I don't know what I was thinking. Sorry."
"Listen, let's start over again, ok? You are a good intern, and I would like to be able to continue to deal with this patient with you, without further hiccups."
"Do you think I'm good?" she asked, surprised. Yes, Mark thought this. At first, when the chief had assigned her to him as one of his assistants, he had not been very enthusiastic, but he had to reconsider this quickly. In some ways, anyone could see how Lexie was still a beginner, but even her potential was obvious, as was her desire to learn and her need to give the most.
"We worked together today. I looked at your job, and, yes, I believe it. I also think you could become an excellent doctor, but you will not if instead of checking the patient, you stay here discussing with me." Lexie smiled. She seemed to have forgotten why she had gone there. Without saying a word, she left the room, closing the door behind her, leaving Mark alone with new thoughts and even more disconcerting statements on which ruminate. The previous conversations were nothing if compared to the one just ended. And that persistent aroma of vanilla, of which the place was now impregnated, did not help at all.
