Author: Devylish
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Warning: None
Rating: PG13
Words: 1935
Disclaimer: On profile
AN: Aclairec killed me with the following prompt: Helicopter dumbo secret

When Arizona had left for Africa, Callie had been crushed. Broken in ways that she didn't think she would ever recover from.

But, per usual, she rebounded, taped her pieces back together and carried on. And a big part of her rebounding, recovery, tapedness was Mark.

When he found out that Arizona had left her his first response was: "I don't care if she's girl or not, I'm gonna have to slug her if I see her again."

Callie had giggled at this, and then she had started to laugh... and then she'd started to cry.

And then Mark had taken her into his arms in a hug. A patented 'it'll be okay' Mark-hug.

And he'd been right.

Things had gotten to 'okay'. It had taken weeks for her to stop thinking about Arizona every hour on the hour. It had taken months for her to stop bursting in to tears for 'no reason' (seeing a blonde, hearing something about Africa, hearing about Arizona State kicking the ass of Florida State...). And it had taken her six months for her to start wanting to have sex again.

And fortunately for her, 'Mr. Sex' was her best friend.

Mark had willingly, happily, helped her over her 'I need sex, but not a relationship' hurdle. And for two months they'd been like bunny rabbits, fucking, horny, sexy, sexing bunny rabbits. There wasn't a space in Mark's apartment that they didn't defile/grace.

It was good sex. Great sex. Amazing sex.

And somewhere along the line, it finally became more than just sex.

It finally became best friends making love.

It finally became Callie and Mark making love.

They didn't talk about it.

They didn't point out to each other or to those around them, that they were living together. Grocery shopping together. Sleeping together.

They simply kept it quiet. Kept it between the two of them.

So she cooked meals for him when she knew he was working late.

He took her out to dinner on the days she was free from work.

They read the Sunday paper together … sometimes at 7 am. Sometimes at 10pm. But they read it together, in the bed they shared.

He held her as she slept.

Derek looked at the small box and nodded his head a few times. "Okay. I'm already married, but if I wasn't, I'd consider saying yes to you for this rock." He snapped the box shut and handed it back to Mark. "She'll love it."

Mark tensely shoved the black velvet square into his pocket. Derek's nod of approval was helpful, but Mark was still on edge about doing it; about finally asking Callie to marry him.

They hadn't talked about their... relationship. Not once. So this... this was a big leap. A huge, huge, stupid leap.

He hoped that she'd remained silent about their relationship for the same reasons he'd kept his mouth shut... i.e. fear. He hoped she was as scared of jinxing the thing they'd found as he was. Yeah, he hoped fear was motivating her silence versus the possibility that she hadn't talked to him about 'them' because she didn't think there was a 'them'.

He thought, hoped – hell he even prayed- that she wanted there to be a 'them'. But...

Derek looked up at Mark as he paced in front of the lockers. "She'll love it." He reiterated.

Mark sighed and gave up another silent prayer.

"Seriously Callie! We're going to be late!" Mark paced the living room as he waited, little black box in his pants pocket, for Callie to finish getting ready for their date.

"So we're late! We don't have to go to Luigi's we can try one of those other restaurants on Pearson that we keep talking about trying." She wrapped the tissue paper around the small item in the box, and settled the top down over it. Grabbing the ribbon she'd pre-cut, she started wrapping and tying it around the box.

It was a little over a year since Arizona left for Africa, and it was one year, to the day, that she'd officially moved in with Mark, selling her rental of the apartment across the hall to the sub-leasers.

So today, tonight was their anniversary and they'd made plans to go out for dinner and celebrate being roommates.

Roommates who slept together, made love with one another, grocery shopped together, took care of one another … she pulled the last bit of the bow tight and looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Roommates who loved one another. Or, at least, she thought they loved one another. She loved Mark.

Ache in her bones, heat in her belly, shivers up and down her spine, toasted marshmallow loved him. This love was different from what she'd felt for Arizona, different from what she'd experienced with George. It was stronger – she was older and wiser. It was deeper – he'd seen sides of her, bits and pieces of her that even she hadn't realized existed. And he still wanted to be around her.

Callie opened her oversized black leather purse, and placed the gift box inside of it. Offering up a quick prayer that her stomach would settle before dinner, she glanced in the mirror at her reflection.

she blew out a quick breath and muttered to herself, 'I certainly hope Mark wants to be with me forever, or this, this evening could end up being totally embarrassing.'

(()))

Mark glanced at his watch again, if they didn't leave the apartment within the next 2-3 minutes, his plans would be ruined. And he'd gone big with his plans ('go big or go home' echoed through his skull). Instead of going to Luigi's as Callie thought they were going to do, he'd chartered a helicopter to take them on an evening flight over Seattle, and then they were going to be taken, by limo to Emerson's Bistro, one of the most expensive restaurants in the city... hell on the west coast. Once they finished their meal and dessert was delivered to the table, he was going to drop to one knee, and serve his heart to her in the shape of a little black velvet box.

And hope she didn't tromp all over it in her stilettos.

He opened his mouth to bark another plea for Callie to come out, and he shut it again abruptly, his eyes glued on the vision in front of him.

Callie stood in the hall, one hand on a hip, a sexy indigo dress, cut low and riding mid thigh, was painted on her frame. Her hair gracing her shoulders in thick waves and her feet encased in a pair of black peep toe heels.

Mark gulped.

Callie smiled. "Ready?"

He was silent as he held his hand out to her, his eyes never leaving hers. He'd never been more ready for anything in his life.

(())))

Callie was so busy thinking about her little gift and how she was going to present it to Mark that she didn't pay much attention to exactly where Mark was driving.

Thirty minutes in to their ride she suddenly looked around and realized "Mark? Where the hell are you going? We're on the opposite side of town from Luigi's."

Mark blew out a silent breath and glanced over at Callie, "Small change in plans baby."

Callie raised a brow, and then raised the other one when Mark slowed down and pulled into the Fresmont Airport property. "Mark?"

"I thought we'd do something special" He found a parking spot at the back of the lot and turned off the motor. He unbuckled his seat belt and faced Callie. "I booked a helicopter for us; we're going to have a sunset flight over Seattle."

Callie's eyes softened and she began to smile. Mark planned something romantic for them. The two of them didn't do 'romantic' often. They never had, and probably never would be one of those constantly gooey smushy couples. But every once and a while, he did something... something unexpected and sweet and soft. He brought her 'for no reason' flowers. Or he made her banana waffles and served them to her in bed. He could be romantic, and the fact that he did it so unexpectedly, so rarely, it got to her even more.

"You chartered a helicopter?" Her stomach flipped and dipped again.

He smiled and nodded his head.

"That's so... so sweet... so roman – but," she gulped, "I don't think I can go up. I, I mean... i'm not feeling -"

"Was it a bad idea?"

"It was an amazing idea, I just..." Shit! This isn't how I wanted to tell him. Fuck! Callie leaned forward and reached into her handbag, pulling out the small gift box. Biting her bottom lip, she handed it to Mark.

Mark shook his head in confusion, "Wait, what about the helicopter? I –."

"I've been keeping a secret from you for the past few weeks and – open the box Mark."

"A secret?" Callie couldn't keep anything from him, he could read her like a book – normally. That being said, for the past few weeks he'd been pretty focused on pulling the plans for tonight together. Maybe he'd missed some signs.

"Open the box Mark."

He eyed her. She was nervous.

Her being nervous made HIM nervous. He pulled at the ribbon and tugged it off of the box. Slipping his finger under the lid he plied it open and shifting through a few sheets of tissue paper he found a pale green piece of cloth with a pale grey big eared elephant on it.

He lifted his head, confusion lighting his visage.

Callie tried to help. "It's Dumbo."

Mark nodded his head as if that statement explained it all. It didn't though. She's giving me Dumbo as an anniversary gift? He lifted the piece of cloth out of its container and suddenly – finally – everything began to click for him. In his hands he held a small cotton outfit, almost like a one piece swimming suit, only he knew it wasn't a swimming suit. It was a onesie. The kind of outfit you put on a baby.

He was an adult man, a strong, fairly manly man, so, he didn't cry often. But within seconds of holding up the Dumbo laden onesie, Mark could feel his eyes welling up. "Are you saying...?"

Callie nodded her head, "I'd love to take a flight around Seattle, but my stomach... I've been a little sick for a few days... the books say it's natural for the first four months or so. I -"

Callie's explanation was cut off by Mark leaning across the car console and his lips pressing against hers.

When he finally pulled away from her, leaving Callie breathless and slightly dizzy, Mark reached in to his pocket and pulled out the box containing Callie's engagement ring. "I wanted to give this to you later, at dinner, and now it's kind of anti-climatic after your news," He flipped open the box. "but..., marry me?"

(()))

Eventually they did talk.

They talked about being pregnant. About being in a relationship. About being 'in love'.

But at that moment.

That evening, they didn't say much.

They simply smiled.

And touched.

And really... who needs words?