Dear Reader,
A couple days ago I did something really stupid, I posted spoilers on this site and in retrospect, I realize I was just asking for trouble and it was just a juvenile thing to do, gloating. So this is my apology. I put myself through my greatest agony because I hope I didn't offend anyone or make anyone defensive. I don't have much to say on Mark and Lexie as a couple because I am a closed-minded bitch who never changes her mind on anything. Ever. But I will admit that there are AWESOME Mark/Lexie writers and people out there, (Citron_Presse I am talking to you) so my regret is poured into here. Thank you
Echante.
XXXXXX
She's a very beautiful woman, delicate and tiny, she stammers her words in a way you find absolutely adorable, and she's content to just be who she is. What you like best is she's consistent. You once swung your legs over the barrier of the Empire State Building and watched your feet dangle over the edge, several hundred meters above the ground, just for the hell of it. She's different, with her; it's like you're standing on solid ground. It's a new feeling. You kind of like it.
You know that she's forced you to grow up, she's complimented you in a way that isn't dangerous or devastating, you're afraid to hurt her, sometimes it scares the shit out of you how afraid you are to damage her even in the slightest. She's had a shit life; you don't want to be a part of the things that made her cry.
She's sitting in front of you and smiling up at you with her being, not just with the mouths or the eyes, but her jaw seems happy, and her hair is just tickled. There's a responding grin on your own face and there's an unfamiliar feeling in your heart. She's pregnant; you're going to be a father.
"I peed on a stick," she says smiling, and its strange how happy those words make you.
"And?" You asked, though you know the answer.
"You're going to be a Daddy."
XXXXXX
There's a slight change in her flat stomach, you can barely make it out but it's there. Your hands are drawn to the slight bump with the gravitational pull of love. You think you can almost feel the child who you think is a son. There's real love you have for something that is probably about the size of a peanut.
XXXXXX
The birth is painful and you find yourself wanting to shoulder the pain to take her screams and bottle it into yourself. But three hours and twenty-three minutes later you have beautiful baby boy, with your eyes and peach fuzz the color of her hair. There's a streak of pink that spreads across his cheeks and it's the, and you hate to think this, cutest thing, you've ever seen. For the first time in your life, you're not thinking about toppling over the edge or rolling on the ground. You're here, you're present and that's what she does to you, she grounds you, she treats you right and you return the favor. And now you've mixed his DNA with hers and created something beautiful, something that will bond you for the rest of your lives. It's the happiest you've ever been she did this to you. You kiss her on the forehead and savor her name as you whisper it, "Lexie Grey."
A/N: It was the best I could do.