Cold Hands
Mark entered the hospital, blowing ont his hands to warm them up. It hadn't been a good morning.
He had woken up late and then his car had run out of gas halfway to the hospital.
When Mark entered the attending locker room, he saw Addison sitting on a bench working on some charts. She had shed her lab coat. She was wearing scrub bottems but hadn't bothered with a scrub top in favor of her long-sleeved white shirt.
The way she was bending over exposed a half inch of skin and it gave Mark an idea.
Careful to be as quiet as possible, he crept forward. When he was directly behind her, quick as possible, he shoved his hands up the back of her shirt.
Addison shrieked in surprise and scrambled away from his icy hands. "Mark!"
Mark smiled innocently, holding his hands in front of him. "My hands were cold and I was trying to think of the best way to warm them up."
Addison's mouth twitched at his boyish grin, but she was determined not to let him see her amusement. "The next time your hands are cold," she snapped, "stick them up someone else's shirt."
Mark smirked. "But then I wouldn't get such fun reactions."
Addison rolled her eyes. "Keep your cold hands to yourself." She gathered up her charts.
"But's it's okay when they're warm, right?"
Addison decided not to dignify that with a response.